Opposites

f i f t y - f o u r

Melody

"Oh! Can we stop here please?" I shriek, looking at Liam expectantly with wide eyes, waiting for him to talk to the driver.

While Liam blabbers in French with the driver to pull the car over, I grin widely looking out from the window.

The car soon halts at the end of the street, and I open the car door, getting outside hurriedly.

Niall and Liam follow after me, getting out of the car as well.

"You've bought enough clothes, Mel." Niall sighs exhaustedly, pulling his jacket closer to his body to warm himself up.

"I'm not shopping for clothes again, Ni." I roll my eyes playfully, and my lips curl up in a wide smile once again as I rake the man in front of me.

Liam approaches me until he's standing closely beside me, "Why are you staring at that guy like that?"

The man is obviously a painter, as he fixes his easel that supports his painting. His hand moves swiftly and professionally across the half white painting, finishing up his masterpiece of the Eiffel Tower. He goes to pick up his second brush, dipping it on the blue color on the palette and colors the sky. With a still wide smile, I jog towards the man, ignoring Liam's calls of my name.

"Excuse me?" I say, catching his attention when his movements stop.

The man's gaze lingers on my face for another second, and I take in all of his features. His eyes are as black as coffee, his jaw is sharp and very clean shaven. His hair is covered and hidden under the Beret hat he's wearing, and he's wearing a striped Tee with black trousers. Such a typical french man.

I repeat, "Excuse me? Do you speak English?"

I look back to see Niall and Liam examining me from their spot by the car, then I return my attention back to the painter.

When I catch him nodding curtly, my smile widens even more, if that's possible. "Is that for sale?"

His movements freeze once again, only to swiftly get back to painting seconds later.

"Non, this is not for sale, mon chéri." His voice is elevated as he speaks, and his poor English is clearly evident in his sentence.

I frown. "It's just that I really liked it and I would love to buy it."

I watch as he lightly continues to color the sky in his painting, until he finally sets the brush down. He frowns at his work though, picking up the brush again and fixing a bit of things here and there.

He finally turns fully to face me again and I say, "Is there another painting of the Eiffel Tower I can buy?"

"Non."

"Are you sure?"

"Oui."

"Is there anything else you've drawn that's up for sale?"

I groan out in frustration, giving him one last sad expression before I turn around defeated.

Just when I'm about to approach Liam and Niall again, the painter calls out.

"Toi fille!" I turn around very fast, to see the man furrowing his eyebrows and motioning his hand around, for me to come over again.

With a stunned expression, I stand in front of him.

He bends slightly picking up a smaller painting than the one he was painting minutes ago, and slowly turns it around for me to see. A small gasp escapes from my lips at the wonderful and magnificent portrait in front of my eyes. The painting has the Arc De Triomphe painted beautifully and elegantly, the colors standing out harshly.