What started in Paris

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

    "I thought you said we needed not to be seen." I say as I pull my jacket hood over my head to keep the falling snow out of my face.

    "Yes love, but sometimes the best way to hide is in plain sight." Adam says, draping one arm lazily across my shoulders.

We were currently walking away from headquarters from a few buildings down and crossing one of the many streets. It was snowing so everything had a white glow surrounding it; the roads were slick and icy below my sneakers. Paris isn't exactly what it appears to be from pictures and old movies, it's just a city, a very busy, very large city. It's shaped so the streets wrap around each individual building, making almost triangular blocks of buildings, interrupted only by the occasional historical monument or fountain.

But don't get me wrong, it is a beautiful place and I would really like to go tour Balconies Opera House, as well as the Eifel Tower, but I'm just not one of those people who believes a city will change you, how can it? it's just a city. But I'm also a writer so even though I find the world much more interesting inside my head I've always had a very firm belief that there should be a firm line between the fantasy in my head and the reality of what I'm seeing, and that they shouldn't mix.

    "So where are we going?" I ask, walking a little closer to him as a gust of wind blows my now curly hair against his shoulder.

   "An old friend of mine has a flat not too far from here, and he happens to be out of town on a job so he agreed to let us use it for the night." He says, readjusting his hold on the duffle bag and computer case he has over his shoulder.

   "Covenant." I say, dodging a passing bicyclist.

 "Very." He says and absent mindedly plays with one of my curls as we watch a snow covered carousel turn; children's laughter floating airily towards us, and wait for the crosswalk light to turn to go.

 *****

 Have you ever had to spent the night at a strangers house, with a guy, and without being able to pack anything? Just so you know, it sucks. Because when you take a shower you have to use his shampoo and body wash, which is just very weird and awkward because for one it smells very manly and two you don't want him to know you've used any so you try to use as little as possible but the bottle has other ideas. The bottle decides that it's just going to squirt as much as possible out, but not in you're hand, no on the floor, staining the tiny shower stall blue

  I sigh and scowl down at the old spice bodywash bottle in my hands, trying to figure out if the smell makes me want to gag or to like it.

I have learned one thing though, just because old spice stuff smells great on Adam and guys in general, it smells way different when you actually use it, smells horrible.

This makes me a horrible person, but I'm mad at my father for 'caring' so very much about me, if he would have kept his mouth shut and me off record, then I probably wouldn't be in this situation. But I'm here now, and getting mad at him wasn't going to change it.

 The hot water runs cold so I turn off the shower and step out, grabbing my towel.

    "Day." Adam calls from the other side of the door, making me jump.

   "Yeah?" I yell, my voice high pitched as I rush to wrap my towel around me.

  "I thought you might want to use this to change into, so..." He trails off so I open the door, keeping a firm grip on my towel.

   "Yes, thank you." I say, trying to will myself not to blush too much.

  "Not a problem." He says, sounding a little embarrassed too; handing me a folded piece of clothing and walking away.