ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʀᴏɪꜱꜱᴀɴᴛ | 𝘓𝘰𝘶 𝘹 𝘋𝘦𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘦

Kisses and Croissant

𝕂𝕀𝕊𝕊𝔼𝕊 𝔸ℕ𝔻 ℂℝ𝕆𝕀𝕊𝕊𝔸ℕ𝕋

—

ᴊᴜʟʏ, ᴘᴀʀɪꜱ.

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ cast by the night, July seemed steady down at the streets of Paris. Many people would have known the city for its romantic and enchanting atmosphere, and on a beautiful, chilly night, the city comes alive with a special kind of magic. The air chill and the growing banter of a multitude. The streetlights stood tall at the sides of the pavement, casting a soft glow on the cobblestones below. The Eiffel Tower stands tall in the distance, illuminated against the dark sky. The chilly air adds a crispness to the sounds of the city, with the distant sounds of laughter and chatter filling the air.

Couples stroll arm in arm down the streets, bundled up in cozy coats and scarves. The smell of warm croissants and freshly brewed coffee wafts from the nearby cafes lured Debbie to duck in and get herself a warm treat. After spending an entire 24 hours wandering the corridors of Hôpital Saint-Louis, she certainly deserved this.

She paused to inhale deeply, savoring the brisk, invigorating air that infused the city with vitality. The lingering numbness in her hand from the ten-hour spine surgery earlier prompted her to gently massage her wrist. Finally! Glancing around, she observed people leisurely strolling, relishing the city's charm on this chilly evening. The streets pulsed with animated conversations and the melodic clinks of glasses at nearby bistros. A smile of contentment played on Debbie's lips, impossible to suppress.

It was another day in Paris. Debbie, an accomplished orthopedic surgeon hailing from Los Angeles, found herself amidst the picturesque streets of Paris for an important medical mission. Her reputation for skill and dedication had led to an invitation from an international medical relief organization. Their mission is to collaborate with local medical professionals, providing specialized orthopedic care to underserved communities.

Bonsoir, Paris. Even though it wasn't verbally spoken, she can hear Tammy, her best friend, laughing at her awful French accent.

Stepping into the coffee shop felt like stepping into a hidden treasure trove; every nook held an exquisite piece of decor waiting to be discovered. The air was woven with the intoxicating dance of freshly ground beans, a scent that wrapped around her senses and drew her deeper inside. She ordered her coffee and sat down at a small table by the window, watching the bustling city go by.

"ᴄᴏɴɴᴀʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴛᴜᴘɪᴅᴇꜱ!" Lou couldn't quite set her mind straight as she looked at her phone, which flashed a picture of her ex-husband going on a trip to South Africa with his 20-year-old new girlfriend. She almost felt like suffocating; irritation was engulfing her system. How dare he post something like this when it has only been 2 weeks since we divorced? Lou cursed.

Maybe anger isn't what's bothering her; it's the humiliation she has to face when Alfonso had the guts to post his new woman like a man who didn't come from a recent divorce. Considering that people would be talking about this. Fuck you. She cursed again and again. As if one curse is not enough to release her aggravation. She just felt like she had lost her appetite. Great.

Lou felt an odd, heavy stare from someone somewhere in the room. As the night wears on, the chill becomes more pronounced, but the city's inhabitants don't seem to mind. People continue to enter and flee the bistro as if its nature has always been like this. She questions whether a door experiences loneliness the same way that a human does when people come and go. Her eyes got tired of wondering metaphors about the goddamn door. She looked from across her, and there was a table in a corner by the window. A woman was eyeing her. A brunette who she assumes is the same age as her. She was beautiful, with strong facial features. Lou thought for a second that she might be a model, but she looked a bit older to be a model. She settled her guess that she was maybe a retired model.