Quiet Little French Girl. [h.s.]

Diaries; Rolling words.

We remain in silence stood in her pristine kitchen, the entire room immensely clean with everything in it's correct place. The kitchen looks modern but not similar to mine, the pine wood cupboards have silver metal handles that are cold to the touch. A small bowl of fruit sits on the top of the middle counter, some pieces missing, showing that she's eaten them.

Odette's back still faces me as she continues to make my cup of tea and her cup of coffee. She carefully lifts the kettle and pours the scolding water into each of our cups, lifting the teaspoon and stirring mine first before moving onto her cup shortly after; she turns and places my tea bag in the bin before heading over to the fridge, giving me a coy smile as she does so.

She glances at me as she pours the milk into my cup, observing my minuscule facial expressions to try and figure out when she should stop. I nod slightly and she stops, stirring it again and handing the boiling hot cup to me.

I wait until she has finished preparing her coffee before replying, knowing that her eyes are focused on my lips, "Thank you."

I receive a smile, following behind her as she makes her way back into the living room, inhaling her sweet and fruity perfume as she brushes past me. Odette perches herself lightly on the edge of the couch and watches me expectantly, not really knowing what I'm going to do next.

It must be hard for her being deaf, it means she has to pay attention to everything I do just to make sure she doesn't miss anything. For her, having a conversation or having guests around requires her complete attention, she must never get to truly relax in somebody else's company.

My hands graze along whatever they can as I make my way towards where she's sat, her hands firmly secured around her cup as she watches me intently, her hands keeping warm due to the hot coffee.

I glance over at her, smiling at her concentrated face. She has no idea what I'm thinking and I have no idea what she's thinking - she looks so focused, as if everything is new to her and she isn't really sure what to do about it.

My free hand finally rests on a small black book, what looks like a diary of some sort. My heart begins to race immediately, all of her thoughts and aspirations are in this book, her entire life probably etched across these pages that are currently beneath my fingertips. I stop. My green eyes focusing on her, watching as her pure crystals glance up to meet me, somewhat intimidated by the smirk crossing my lips.

"Is this your diary?" I ask cheekily, picking up the book and holding it tightly in my hand, I inspect the perfectly kept spine and immaculate cover of the book; almost as if it hasn't been used yet. Her head nods slightly confirming my suspicion whilst her eyes refuse to leave mine, staring up at me in awe as I handle the delicate book.

Finally, I sit my body next to hers on the couch, placing the warm cup of tea on a coaster on the coffee table and using both hands to hold the precious little black book. I eye her suspiciously trying to notice any sense of nervousness or hesitation to allow me to continue.

My curiosity getting the better of me, I swiftly open the simple magnetic lock keeping the book in order. My eyes never leaving hers, still examining her expression and wondering why she isn't the least bit nervous at my bold actions.

I decide that her unchanging expression will remain the same and proceed to open the book regardless. My eyes scan over my actions as I open the first page, seeing her precious words scribbled down in black pen across the white lined paper.

It takes me a few seconds to realise what I am actually looking at. The words scrambled down in her perfect cursive writing, her thoughts and feelings transferred onto paper, the reason why she is un phased by my curious and bold actions.

Her diary is written in French.

There is no way I can understand it; I mean I know I studied French at school but that was just the basics, I can't speak it fluently, and I think a part of her knew that. My eyes lift up to meet hers, a sparkle in her blue orbs and a knowing smile playing on her lips, her bottom lip tugged between her teeth as she lets out a small giggle.

"Very clever." I smile and roll my eyes playfully at her.

Her small giggle surrounds the room, the light sound like music to my ears, like my favourite song, like an addiction. It's sweet tone is simply perfect and faultless. Much like Odette herself.

"Do you still use this?" I ask her, my voice intrigued as I watch her every move. She nods her head slightly, therefore I turn back and look at the almost cryptic like text, allowing my eyes to scan over the concealed words. "Every-day?" I confirm, looking back at her and waiting for a response, which is another simple nod.

My green eyes trail from the text and up my hand, landing on the silver watch located on my wrist. Five pm. Wow time really flies. I didn't realise I've been here for over an hour!

"Well I should get going, I have to get something to eat and carry on with my work." I sigh, lifting myself up off the couch and carefully placing her black diary onto the coffee table, although I'd much rather take it with me - even if I can't read it - because her handwriting is hypnotising, so cursive and perfect.

She scurries before me, almost panicking as she roots through the papers on the table to find a clean one, grabbing a pen and writing something down.

'What kind of work?'

I read, remembering that I haven't told her about my project. "Well, I've been given a project to do for work. Its a booklet advertising France for a travel company. I have to research, plan and create, and then print a prototype. They've given me a month off to focus on it." I inform her simply, as if it's nothing.

In all honesty, I just think she's being nice, my work is pretty boring to hear about so I don't want to bore her with any unnecessary details. She scurries again, her left hand writing furiously so I don't have to wait too long.

'I could help you if you'd like. I am French after all, I'm better than any research you could find :)'

A small smile takes over my face at her cute words. She would happily take time out of her day to help some random neighbour that she's only just met. I take in a large breath and widen my smile thankfully, "that would be amazing actually. And you're right, you are better than research." How cheesy is this moment? But I don't care, I can't help it when I'm with her.

A small blush creeps into her cheeks and she glances down to the floor, her bottom lip inbetween her teeth and a coy smile showing. I made her blush, I laugh at her blushed response, "Well are you busy tomorrow morning?" She shakes her head no, I can tell by the expression on her face that she is intrigued by my questions, wondering what I could possibly be planning.

"Well how about I come by tomorrow morning and we can go for breakfast? We could talk about France and you could help me with my project." I offer, hoping she will accept. I want to see her again, I need to see her again.

She smiles widely and nods enthusiastically at my offer making me think that she is genuinely excited, almost as much as I am. My heart races as she accepts, my expression mirroring hers. "Great," I breath, "I'll be here around ten, Is that okay?"

She nods again, her expression the same as before, although her crystal eyes look brighter as she gazes up at me. "Thank you for the tea, and I'll see you tomorrow." I smile, walking towards the front door and opening it as she stands close behind me. "Oh," I remember, turning back to face her, "It's been a pleasure to meet you," I pause, allowing the following word to roll off my tongue so gracefully, as if I have been meant to say it all my life, as if I am confirming she is real, "Odette."

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- Pianogirl56