Chapter 20 : Budding Romance in the City of love.
Zoya’s P.O.V
Arnaud and I are slowly walking on the beach, our hands intertwined, our sides gently brushing against each other. We walk contentedly, not a word is exchanged between the two of us. The silence is a not biting or haunting but more of the pleasurable one. He stops all of a sudden and points towards the horizon. The orange setting sun coupled with the soft waves of the sea and seagulls flying back to their nests paints a beautiful picture. I’m mesmerized, totally captured by the scene in front of me.
Arnaud tugs on my hand and slowly turns me around. He takes a step forward and inches closer to me, with his index finger he slowly lifts my chin so I can look into his eyes. His warm golden eyes like two glasses of clear champagne devour me completely. He kisses my forehead softly, I gently lean in to him and put my arms around him. He stares at my lips and I can see the question in his eyes, before he can open his mouth to ask me for permission and before I can chicken out I give a small nod. He slowly descends his mouth over mine. I close my eyes and feel his warm breath on my lips. I shiver in anticipation. His lips hover just a millimeter away from mine and then,
Look who’s digging their own grave,
that is what they all say.
You’ll drink yourself to death.
Bastille began to sing loudly in the open air. I have always loved Dan Smith’s voice but right now I cannot figure out why he chose to sing Icarus is flying too close to the sun at this very moment. I have been waiting for so long for Arnaud to kiss me and finally when it’s about to happen Dan starts singing.
The loud chorus wakes me up from my dream and my hands frantically search for the source of the noise. Finally I hit jackpot. My hand feels something hard, metallic and noisy. I slowly press the snooze button on my phone.
Thank you Bastille.
Indeed!
Thank you so much for destroying the one and only kiss that I was ever going to have.
Wait what?
When did I start dreaming about kissing guys?
My normal dreams had me winning a Statistics Scholarship or receiving the Nobel Prize for Outstanding Contribution to Science, not kissing an immensely hot Greek God with golden eyes who makes my knees weak and incidentally also happens to be my neighbor, sleeping in the room right next to mine at this very moment.
My middle school teacher Mrs Dcosta suddenly appears like a vision in front of me, raising both her eyebrows with pursed lips giving me her famous “You are in trouble Missy” glare.
I slowly shake my head to get rid of the creepy vision and stretch my limbs. I can hear soft slap of feet on the wood flooring in the house and it makes my heart beat faster just knowing that Arnaud is up and about. I hurry into the bathroom and come out within an hour fresh and ravenous.
I tiptoe to the kitchen and quietly observe Arnaud who is oblivious to my presence completely engrossed in his task.
Clad in faded blue jeans and a snug green T Shirt he moves swiftly in the kitchen like a man on a mission laying the table and getting ready for breakfast. Before I can make my presence known, my stomach lets out an embarrassing growl announcing my presence.
Arnaud turns around and slowly looks at me starting from my feet. I had chosen to dress as per the weather and since it was a pleasant summer day I chose a floral printed dress and gladiator sandals, pairing it with a loose and messy braid. He smiles appreciatively.
“ Tu es jolie. J’aime ta robe. ça te va. ” He says with a big smile. “ You look beautiful.” He translates taking my hand in his and placing a kiss on the palm.
I blush and thank him graciously for the compliment.
I point at the enormous spread of golden croissants fresh out of the oven, strawberry jam, butter and cheese with waffles accompanied by orange juice and coffee. He shrugs like it’s nothing.
That shrug is going to be the death of me. One day.
While eating the scrumptious breakfast I question Arnaud about our plans for the day.
“Well today we will start with The Louvre Museum, have lunch at my favorite restaurant, take a walk in The Luxembourg Gardens, spend some time there and then..”
“Then? What then?” I ask curiously
“Why don’t we cross that bridge when we come to it.” He says with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Arnaud what have you planned?” I ask cautiously.
“Something. Don’t worry your smart head over it. Enjoy the little moments in life rather than worrying about the big ones. It’s the little ones that count and make the larger picture. When you look back you will have a beautiful collage of memories.” He says like a philosopher.
“Amen St. Arnaud. You are well on your way to open your own Art of Living classes.” I joke.
He smiles and mock blesses me.
We eat our breakfast and leave the house. Hands intertwined like an old married couple.
-------------- Few hours later---------------
Arnaud is the best tour guide ever. We spent around three hours at The Louvre Museum. He told me in detail about his favorite objects on display. He also showed me La Joconde or The Monalisa as she is famously called while imitating the scenes from Da Vinci Code - The movie and might I just say he could give Tom Hanks a run for his money, although the other visitors in line did not approve much of his antics, but they were downright funny and I enjoyed myself.
He kept narrating anecdotes from his last visit here with his grandparents which was years ago when he was a kid. They were hilarious and I ended up laughing with tears in my eyes. I told him about my grandparents and he heard me intently. He not only listened but was also deeply interested as he kept asking questions. Our conversation was casual tinged with a little nostalgia as we both shared beautiful childhood memories discovering a closeness that goes beyond friendship.
We had a scrumptious lunch of baguette and chocolate mousse at his favorite restaurant, a quaint little place tucked in an obscure Rue which is very easy to miss if you’re not a local. The ambience was pleasant, it had very homely feel to it and they had some soft French music playing in the background.
The benefits of staying with a Frenchman are plenty indeed.
The baguette was delicious and the chocolate mousse was simply mouthwatering. It was a great effort to keep my hands to myself as my fingers were threatening to break free of my hands and lick the remnants of the chocolate mousse on the plate.
By some weird telepathic connection Arnaud knew what I was thinking and kept laughing earning a murderous glares from me.
After our lunch we took a long walk in the beautiful Luxembourg gardens. We sat under the shade of giant well manicured bush, our arms brushing. I was acutely aware of the sparks, hell they were lightning bolts that the brush of his arm caused. I tried to focus on other things, like our conversation for instance.
We spoke about nothing yet everything.
After a while Arnaud glanced at his watch and jumped like a Jack in the box. He offered me his hand and pulled me up. Before I could ask him where we were headed, he hailed a cab and held the door open for me.
In the cab he gave the cab driver directions and apologized for the rush.
After around ten minutes the cab driver stopped. Arnaud helped me out of the cab. He politely thanked the cabbie and paid him. We were standing in front of a Parisian theatre before I could see the movie that they were screening Arnaud laced my fingers with his and walked inside.
Without letting go of my hand he purchased the tickets and a tub of butter caramel popcorn.
We entered the already dark theatre and took our corner seats when the name of the movie flashed on the screen and at that instant my little crush became bigger. He had brought me to see ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ my favorite all time movie ever.
Unlike most guys who would have chosen an action flick or a horror movie to show their tough sides, he chose a dramatic romantic comedy and I couldn’t help but like him even more.
During the movie Arnaud’s hand found mine and he laced my fingers with his. That made the movie experience even more special and memorable.
We both enjoyed the movie thoroughly. While walking on the road Arnaud confessed that it was one of his favorite movies and when I echoed the same sentiment, he smiled and squeezed my hand.
“Arnaud where are we going?” I asked curiously
“It’s a surprise.” He said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Surprise?” I asked with my eyes wide.
“ Yes, we are going somewhere special.” He said with an air of mystery.
“Tell me.” I persuaded him.
“Non ma chére. It will not remain much of a surprise then.” He said sagely.
“Ok tell me one thing am I perfectly dressed for your surprise, should I go and change, wear something more elegant?” I asked curiously.
“No Zoya. You are perfect the way you are. There is no need to change anything.” He said gently tucking a stray strand of my hair behind my hear letting his hand linger for a tad bit too long
With his one hand entwined with mine and the other gently touching my neck my body felt like it was about to combust. The minute I thought I would erupt in flames he removed his hand from my neck put it back in his pocket.
We reached The Eiffel tower. People were hovering around in pairs, talking and laughing. I was totally entranced by the sight that I beheld. Illuminated and glowing radiantly, The Eiffel Tower stood proudly totally worthy of the title bestowed on it as One of the Seven wonders of the World. Words cannot capture the beauty that is Paris at night. No wonder it’s called The City of Lights.
Boom Boom
A series of loud noises caught my attention and I clung to Arnaud. He held me close and pointed to the sky. The sky was replete with fireworks of all colours, spreading, crackling and illuminating the large ceiling. The Parisians all clapped and cheered.
For a moment it felt like I’m back at home in India, celebrating Diwali.
Arnaud gently tapped on my shoulder. I turned towards him, with his index finger he lifted my head and gently bent his head to meet mine. His lips touched mine and caused a wave of electric shocks in my body. They were sweet and gentle, his arms slid around my waist while my hands wound their way upto his hair pulling him closer to me.
The fireworks in the sky were a mirror reflection of the fireworks within.
I was wrong, it was not Diwali. Nowhere close to it. This was Christmas and Santa had finally given me my own Christmas gift albeit a little early but I’m not complaining.
AN : Hey Everyone, Please forgive me for uploading so late. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Votes and comments are appreciated :) Let me know what you think of it.