Let's Shake Hands

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The morning light of the huge living room window stroked me awake from my pill induced sleep. I was fine now, as if nothing ever happened.

It was Wednesday, my silver vintage Casio watch marked 9:12 am. It was cold, so I wrapped myself more in the blanket while staring at the window. You could see the windows of the building in front of this, with the outer fire staircases and everything, it made it look very American, very New York. I love this city, it's alive, just like Paris, but even more urban.

I sat up, still with the blanket around me, scratched my head, yawned and stretched.

I heard footsteps coming from behind. Jack touched my shoulder softly as he headed to the kitchen.

"G'morning, Echo the nymph" he said as he opened the pantry, looking for the coffee. His black curls were wilder than usual, he had a white t-shirt on and loose pajama pants with a blue and red squares pattern.

I laughed quietly, "Good morning Jack", I got up and walked towards the counter. He handed me a mug with warm water, a Nescafé jar, sugar and a spoon.

"I'd make it for you but I don't know how you like it" he said, scratching his head.

I smiled at him, "Well... not a fan a soluble coffee, but I don't mind it either."

"I bet you make your coffee in a fancy bohemian way with Sartre's spit on it or something"

I laughed loudly "In a french press, not with Sartre's spit but rather Simone de Beauvoir's tears of when he died".

"does it gives you the ... nausea?" (referring to Sartre's novel)

"... terrible joke" I said and we both laughed.

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled, looking to the side "I tried"

"...Hey sure you're ok? you kind of freaked me out last night" He said.

"Oh it was nothing, don't worry, really, girl stuff, that's all."

"Why did you sleep on the couch?"

"Hm... I don't know, kinda weird to share the bed just yet don't you think?"

"I guess, but I suppose we're like ... man, it's too early to talk about that I'm not even awake yet" He laughed and took a sip of his coffee. I guess he wanted to say we were on the verge of dating and we were allowed to share a bed but I was relieved he didn't start that conversation.

"I barely know anything about you, K"

I looked at him and smiled

"Well, I don't think there's much to it, but what do you want to know?"

"Some basics... last name.

"Charpentier"

"Like carpenter?"

"oui"

"Dont' you remember you told me you loved me baby?" He sang a line of the chorus of Superstar by The Carpenters

"I like Sonic Youth's version better, but yeah, like that"

"Alright, place of birth"

"Paris, France"

"When?"

"January 16th, 1980."

"Are you kidding? your birthday was two days ago and you didn't say a word" He laughed

"I'm not too fond of birthdays to be honest" I replied and smiled, "I'm 23, I was 22, and then 'll be 24... I don't know, it doesn't strike me to grow old like it used to"

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