I Love You a Latte

Chapter One

Chapter One

The glistening, Parisian sun beamed brightly through the translucent double-glazed window, my only company being the sound of rain that tapped harmoniously against the old tiled roof, like a stick to a drum in sync with every beat. As a young girl, I would never have believed this could happen to me. I stared out through the rusted-panelled window in sheer disbelief, not quite ready to accept the fact that I was now living in this beautiful city. Paris, the city of love and light; the home of all things captivating and magnificent, and by this I mean the gorgeous array of French boys that it happens to be the home of.

I began to unravel the clothes from my pink, polka-dot suitcase. One by one, I folded each item of clothing and neatly placed them into the wooden chest of drawers next to me. Once this chore had been completed, I unzipped my other bag of luggage to retrieve the photos of my friends and family I had printed out at the airport. Flicking through the pile, I felt a whirlwind of emotions developing inside of me. Was I ready for this? Was I ready to move away from home, or should I have taken a gap year instead?

I attempted to distract myself from the fears and worries that had slowly begun to cascade through my entire being, stumbling towards the ensuite that was attached to my cosy new dorm room. I showered to dispose of the airplane scent from my two-hour flight from Belfast to Paris. Once dried, I changed into my forest green bell-sleeved crop top, accompanying this with my favourite light denim button-up pinafore and a pair of soft pink sneakers. Satisfied with my glow-up, I grabbed my grey, floral-printed shoulder bag and exited the room.

I stepped out in to the fresh, open air. The rain had finally begun to settle, with its collaboration with the bright, fluorescent sun having formed a perfectly-arched rainbow in the now cloudless, sapphire skies above. I strode confidently along the rustic, paved streets; cool, calm and collected. Each café I passed intoxicated me with the sweet smells of pastries such as croissants and pain-au-chocolats, not forgetting the divine, savoury scents of freshly filled baguettes. Therefore, it certainly wasn't a shock that my stomach began to rumble with the aroma of heavenly smells that lingered through the air around me. I decided to take refuge in a coffee shop that was situated at the corner of a street called 'Avenue de Madeline'.

A display of pastel-coloured plant pots filled with an abundance of primroses and peonies hung decadently below the hand-painted sign which read "Je t'aime un Latte". Inside the coffee shop was just as beautiful as the outside, each wall painted a fine shade of lilac. This aesthetic was complimented with a fine set of white, glacier-styled tables and rustic wooden chairs that were coloured to match the muted tones of pink, green, purple and blue plant pots that draped from the sign above the door.

"Bonjour Madame!" exclaimed the gentleman, who stood beamingly behind the polished, glass counter that was bursting to its seams with the scrumptious delicacies I was longing to digest. "Quelle belle journee nous avons, non?"

I smiled at the joyous expression that was attached to the gentleman's kind-natured face. "Oui, c'est, n'est-ce pas?" I responded, grinning from the smugness that suddenly overcame me. I always knew that my A-level languages would become a skill worth having.

After much delegation, I decided upon getting the tomato, pesto and brie filled croissant along with a side of much needed caffeine. I put the remainder of change from my six-euro purchase into the tips jar, much to the approval of my new favourite barista, Pierre.

Despite my endless persistence, Pierre was kind enough to carry my toasted croissant and iced caramel latte over to the table where I chose to sit. It was in the corner of the shop next to a shelf filled with a selection of novels. I studied each one closely as I began to devour my freshly filled pastry, and noticed that there were a bunch of classics that aligned the white-painted shelves; Les Misérables, The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Madame Bovary. I lifted off the only copy of Les Misérables from the shelf that appeared to be in English, and flicked to the first page whilst sipping on my deliciously brewed iced latte.

Just as I was about to turn over to the second page of Victor Hugo's classic, the door of the café swung open. My heart began to beat heavily against my pale skinned chest as I struggled for breath. In front of me stood a handsome stranger, with dark, messy hair that was as brown as sweet ground cinnamon. On his upper body he wore a light grey t-shirt along with a washed-out denim jacket. He modelled a pair of loose skinny jeans that were rolled up at his ankles, which were accompanied by a set of brown, leather Chelsea boots. And to think he couldn't get any sexier, he wore a pair of Gregory Peck glasses that would make any girl swoon. Even my own grandmother would think he was hot!

"Bonjour, Sebastian!", yelled Pierre from behind the counter.

Seb-ast-ian. Is it weird that I instantly thought of that dancing Caribbean crab from the Little Mermaid?

He smiled back at the overly-enthusiastic barista, who appeared to have already prepared the crab - sorry, Sebastian's - order. To my dismay, it appeared that his sandwich was wrapped in a to-go bag whilst his coffee was being poured into a take-away cup.

Regardless of whether he was eating in or eating out, I couldn't take my eyes off of him for even just a second. It was as if he was a bulletin board, and my eyes were stapled to him like a sheet of paper under the grip of a push pin.

Grabbing his pre-packaged goods from the counter, he thanked Pierre for his 'le dejeuner' and journeyed towards the door. Before leaving, however, he turned to wave 'Au Revoir!' to his pal behind the counter, unexpectedly catching a glimpse of me in the process. I blushed at the brief eye contact we had shared, much to the entertainment of Pierre who I noticed had been watching me in mischievous silence the whole time.

To my surprise, Sebastian unleashed a light-hearted smile that I assume was directed towards me. I felt the heat of my cheeks flare up like glass being burnt in a furnace.

After a moment's pause, he glanced at his expensive-looking watch and left the shop. Who was this boy, and will I see more of him?