french lesson

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"i'm exhausted," he sighed. after a laborious afternoon of end-of-the-year projects and assignments, you cuddled together on the sofa. he rested his head on his arm, which was propped on a pillow. 

"at least it's over. summer is nearly here," you reassured. 

"thank goodness, but it's too bad i couldn't take any language classes," he fumbled with the strings of his sweatshirt, "i just needed that study hall so badly." 

"next year," you started, shifting to settle your head on his chest, "you can take french, like me!!" you exclaimed as he hugged his arms around you. 

"but then i will be a year behind you," he pouted sarcastically. 

"then you have to catch up, i'll teach you. repeat after me: bonjour." you recited. 

"bonjour...but that's easy; it's basic stuff," he rolled his eyes. you glared at his smirking face. 

"fine. but the basics are key," you persisted. 

"i know a few things; comment ça va, s'il vous plaît, je m'appelle..." he continued listing examples. he knew an assortment of introductory phrases, however he had shockingly accurate pronunciation. 'accurate' according to your level-2 french standards. 

"alright, repeat after me again: j'aime," you resumed teaching.

"j'aime,"

"quand," 

"j'aime quand," he had a perfect accent. 

"tu parles," you added. 

"tu parles," 

"en français. j'aime quand tu parles en français." you finished the line. 

"j'aime quand tu parles en français...what does that mean?" he questioned. minimally, he bit his lip. 

"it means 'i like when you speak french'," you timidly answered. he laughed, provoking you to bury your face in his chest. his sweatshirt fabric was soft, and it smelled like detergent-vapor. 

"teach me more, if you like my speech so much," he teased. you rolled your head up, pressuring on your chin. 

"okay, this is simple: je t'aime," you said it slowly, rocking over each vowel. 

"je t'aime," he lifted the corners of his lips when he repeated it. you drowned in his gaze.

"je t'aime aussi." you replied, absent of control for words. 

"...what does that mean?" he brushed his hand down your arm. 

"i said: i love you too.

a high school sweetheart agendaWhere stories live. Discover now