Against Fate

Chapter One

Date: 29 November 2015

Poppy groaned as she stepped out into the afternoon sun. It may not have been very warm in Paris in November but it didn't make the sun any less lethal. The Christmas break was approaching and she had been grinding to finish the final part of her assignment due the first week in December. She was pretty much finished but Poppy was, in every sense of the word, a perfectionist and it showed since she was sitting in a cafe on a Sunday stressing over not only her Masters, but her Ph.D applications too.

"Study your Masters abroad, they said. It'll be an experience, they said," the brunette muttered to herself as she whipped out her pack of cigarettes from her bag, bringing one to her lips.

Smoking had been a relatively recent occurrence for the twenty-two year old. She could practically pinpoint it to the date and time when she first put one of them to her lips. Yup, final year at Ohio State University; about to hand in her dissertation when she realised there was a typo on the cover page... definitely it. Luckily that didn't stop her from graduating top of her class with a clear acceptance into Université PSL, Paris; ranked 50th in the world.

Ever since Poppy could remember, she had loved history. Her parents had found her digging in the garden of her Cleveland suburban home, telling them she was digging for Roman ruins, when she was three. Of course, she had just watched some feature on the T.V and she now realises how ridiculous the notion is considering Romans were from Europe, not America. She was more than sure that her parents got a chuckle from the idea. Little did they know then, a fire has been stoked in her belly and she set her sights on becoming an archeologist.

After another few moments in thought, Poppy took out her lighter and lit her cigarette that was still sitting in her mouth, demanding her attention. She took a long drag of the stick before shoving the lighter back into the pocket of her jeans. It took mere moments for the feeling of the smoke filling her lungs to calm her down slightly, enough at least so she would be able to continue on with the redraft of her paper. She glanced back into the cafe to make sure everything was as she left it before she let her eyes drift closed as she took in the sounds of the city. Paris in November was lovely, she had found. Far less tourists to annoy the student and temperature that reminded her of her beloved Ohio. Of course the weather there could be scorching but the Fall was her favourite; and this matched up perfectly.

She inhaled her cigarette another time, keen to enjoy it as long as possible, when a disturbance headed her way.

"Uh... bon- jooor?" A male voice broke through her concentration, making her lips twitch as they threatened a smile at the poor French she heard from what she presumed was an American. Despite being from the States herself, her mother was from France; therefore Poppy was fluent.

She cracked her eyes open to cast a glance at the stranger who addressed her, all the while, mischief glinted in her eye.

"Oui? Puis-je aider?" she asked him, finally taking in the man's appearance. He was bordering on ridiculously tall: inches above six foot, which was a damned miracle in Paris, she had discovered. Even her tiny 5' 2 frame wasn't small enough for her sometimes. Her attention returned to the man and noted his handsome face; his bone structure was wonderful with high cheekbones and a jawline that could probably cut glass. He definitely didn't belong here; if he did, she would stay in France the rest of her life if they offered up men who looked like him. Her own joke nearly made her giggle but she managed to contain it, just as she heard his answer.

"Jayyy voudrayyy... uh... shit. Je voudrais... a... um... lighter?" Yup, his French was abysmal and it took everything in Poppy's power not to start to laugh. But the fact he was even trying enough for her to stay reserved. She wondered if he would start to mime to her what he needed, depended on how desperate he was for a smoke, she supposed. Right on cue, the man brought his hand up and performed an exaggerated movement of lighting a cigarette in the air. It was enough for her to put him out of his misery.