Information: A schoolclass, including Andy and Jack, Rye, Brooklyn and Mikey are going on a trip to Paris. There is a lot more that happens than originally planned.
Andy's POV:
I sigh as we take the elevator downstairs. We still have to be careful in the hallways, incase of a teacher seeing us. Im really not sure if going with him was the right thing. I see Rye looking at me from the corner of my eye.
'Look, you don't have to go with me, if you'd rather stay in. Just thought you could use a little bit of adventure.'
I chuckle. 'Do I not strike you as a wild beast then? I ask him teasingly. I see him smile, but he doesn't reply.
And then we are out on the cold streets of Paris. I just walk beside him, not saying anything, just in expectance of where he wants to go, or what he wants to talk about. He stays silent, as we walk an unfamiliar road.
'Where are we going?' I ask him.
'Oh, just to the city. I've got some places in mind.'
Oh god. He actually thought about this.
As I am wondering where we are heading, I soon remember that our metrocards are 24 hours, meaning that we've still got time left on them. My assumptions are confirmed when we arrive at the metrostation, already familiar with the metro we need. We walk into the metro, that just happens to be there already.
The metro seems to be empty, apart from a woman and a dog who get in at the same time as we do, and take up the seats by the window.
I decide to just stand, not really feeling like sitting down on the dirty metro seats. Rye grabs the handle next to mine, to assure he doesn't fall over.
As the metro starts to move, Rye starts to lean towards me, and I hold my breath, but can't help but notice his natural scent. I close my eyes, and silently try to breathe in the air. It calms me down, strangely. It could just be me, but Rye seems to be standing rather close right now, and neither of us are moving away. We just keep standing like this in silence, which is somewhere stuck between awkward and comfortable. Only when the metro comes to a halt, we move once again, Rye grabbing my upper arm to make sure I get out with him.
He must've noticed how frantic I get about getting in and out of metros. I smile, as I get gently guided towards the exit by Rye's hand, still on my arm.
We start walking away from the metro station, and after a while, Rye notices he still has his hand on my arm, quickly taking it off, and becoming slightly red in his face.
I smile at him, reassuring that I didn't mind. As we walk along, Rye slightly in front, guiding the way, there is a comfortable silence between us.
We are now in central Paris, which is more alive than the area in which our hotel is located. People all around us stumble across the sidewalk, dragging their friends to the ground with them. Others are as sober as ever, prancing around while laughing loudly because of the jokes that are made in the group. Bars are full of folk, their loud drunk talking can be heard from the streets, the fluorescent light blinding to spectators.
I notice the steady beating of my heart, the feeling of protection that comes along with the person walking steadily in front of me.
I catch up with him, quickening my step to read his facial expression, as I am still uncertain of the purpose of this trip. I decide not to ask him anything, as he seems to be deep in thought, but to keep walking next to him, shooting an occasional glance at him, making sure he is okay.
