YA1 || ❝To finding love in your arms everyone morning as I wake up, your eyes meeting my own in a pool of never ending depth. A depth I was willing to test in this life and the next, even if that meant drowning in the swirls of your scent.❞
This boo...
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Driving through the vivacious streets of Paris, we finally decide to grab a quick bite at one of the many cafés lining up at the Champs-Elyssée, our eyes taking in the beautiful reality that is this very moment.
You order the two of us cappuccino and I only too willingly accept it, my hands beginning to shiver slightly in the setting winter. It's not snowing but the temperatures make themselves known.
When the steaming mug of coffee arrives, I only too eagerly pick one off the tray, the dangerously-heighted coffee instantly spilling a little upon my hands. And even though the warmth seeped through my skin only too willingly, I knew that it would burn an angry red if I didn't get some ice to it soon.
You look at me with your trademark frown, quickly wiping the remnants of the spill away and putting your cold hands over mine, the touch instantly comforting. And the next thing I do is laugh.
Not because I was nervous.
No.
The irony of the situation wasn't lost upon. This was what had happened at our first date in a similar café that hadn't survived the changing years, and yet the memory felt like it was just yesterday.
You gently take your hands away and let me sip at the much needed beverage, the warmth instantly warming my insides as I catch you staring at me with a smile. I blush.
"What?"
"You just haven't changed now, have you?"
"I have and you know it, mister," I smirk back in response and as though egged on, you pull me closer to you with my scarf.
Our eyes meet and I know there's nothing more we want in that moment than each other.
As though on cue, you pull me in for a kiss, a kiss so strong it makes the Café dissolve around me except for you.
Your essence.
When we separate, it's not just coffee lingering upon my lips.
The rest of our time at the café goes off without any further incidents, the two of us eating our way through croissants and a rôti de poulet.
By the time the sun sunk it's way into hiding, we'd finished our tour of the shopping arcade and State Fair and had made our way towards the Eiffel Tower, the evening glimmer ever so omnipresent.
