Chapitre Un

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          The plane finally landed in Paris, France! I was so excited! This was my first time leaving the country, so this would be my first time meeting any real life French people! I turned to my best friend who'd accompanied me on this trip. "Aren't you excited to meet the French? I wonder what they're like!"
          She looked down at you, for you were significantly shorter. Curse her gigantic genes, she really was built like an actual giant, and that's not even an exaggeration. Her name was Gigantua for a reason. "Stop saying stuff like that. The French people are normal people just like us, you know." You rolled your eyes at her words and the two of you left the airport hand-in-hand like a couple of good besties. You two walked down the beautiful cobblestone streets and looked up at the gorgeous architecture of the buildings that towered above you. Off in the distance, you see the Eiffel Tower!
          "Oh em gee, bestie, you should take a picture of me in front of le tour l'Eifel." You say excitedly as you make a head start n' bound towards the handsome structure. Gigantua tags thirty feet behind. When you arrive at the Eiffel Tower, you're confused because there's nobody else there. It's only you and... A French person in real life???

          You see a man with a thin mustache, wearing a beret and a striped shirt holding a baguette while smiling under the Eiffel Tower

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          You see a man with a thin mustache, wearing a beret and a striped shirt holding a baguette while smiling under the Eiffel Tower. He notices you and your heart races as he approaches you. "Why, bonjour, ma belle." He says in the Frenchest voice you've ever heard.
          "Bonjour...." You return, entranced by his Parisian charm. "You're the first French guy I've ever met..."
          A French smile twists across his face. What a handsome devil. "Oh, hon-hon. You're an American, oui?" You nodd. "Well," he starts, handing you a vibrant red rose. "Bienvenue à Paris !"
          You feel hot red rush to your face. You know you're blushing as red as the rose. "Merci..." You reply awkwardly. You didn't know what else to say because back in the United States, you skipped your daily French class in highschool and never kept a good streak on Duolingo.
          "You're pretty for an American." He says, breaking your silence. You get kind of offended by that comment, but on the other hand, you're kind of intrigued. "Would you like to have a rendezvous avec moi?"
          "A what?"
          "That's right. I forgot Americans were stupid. I asked if you wanted to go on a date."
          You hesitate for a moment. You just met this guy. What if he's a serial killer? "Uh... Where?"
          He points to a spot near the front of the Eiffel Tower. "We'll have a French picnic over zhere."
          "Oui. I'd love to. When?" You reply.
          "Zhis afternoon." He hands you a white piece of paper that reeks of cheese. "Here's my number, so call me maybe, hm?"
          You hide your blush by covering your face with your hands and giggle like a fangirl. But then an obnoxious voice breaks the fangirl moment.
          "HEY! Y/N!" Gigantua stands five feet away, her cellphone out as a camera. "Strike a pose!"
          The Frenchman's smile twists in an even more French way. "Y/N, zhat is your name?" You nodd. You then strike the classic American peace sign pose as Gigantua takes a photo for Instagram. You and the French guy part ways, and you return to Gigantua.
          "Guess what, bestie?" You giggle.
          "What?"
          "That French guy gave me his number! And he asked me out on a date!"
          Gigantua makes a face of disgust. "Girl, what if he's a serial killer?"
          "You're just jealous that I got a French boy's number and you didn't." You defended your sexy Frenchman.
          "Whatever." You both walked around Paris for a bit.

Stereotypical Frenchman x ReaderDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora