The weekend came quicker than I had expected, but my excitement was practically engraved into my bones. We debated on different things to do, such as a movie or an amusement park or ice-skating. Eventually I gave her an evil gleam and, without any room for argument, looked into her eyes and said:
"I am the Princess of the United Kingdom. Screw this, go big or go home," so we were now heading to Paris via the one-way train, passing under the sea at one point. Sarina absolutely freaked out at that point, and that was when I realized she had a phobia for the ocean.
"You could have just told me about this, I would've scheduled a plane," I held her on the train, petting her back in an attempt to calm her.
"It's only twenty minutes submerged. I can do this," she said with determination, but she didn't seem to convince her. Ian and two other security guards were flanking them in disguise, and it had unsettled Sarina at first. She quickly calmed down when she realized the stakes and the fact that they were skipping across the border for a weekend.
Maybe I was going a bit overboard for the first date, but I always entertained the idea of Sarina popping up in Spain with me. Since that's not a possibility, really, why not our next door neighbours? Sure we had to cross an ocean, but that's what you do for love.
Besides, with all the sudden 'Princess Introductory' classes and more tutoring than I've ever had, I quite definitely wanted to get away. Another country should satisfy my need.
The train ride was two hours, but they passed quickly as Sarina told me stories of her childhood and her time in a public school. She had gone to an Academy where everyone had to wear uniforms with blazers. Of course, knowing her, she rebelled against that and frequently wore her uniform inappropriately. It was no surprise to me. I learned that she actually had four piercings: one in her right ear and three in her left. On closer inspection I noticed the little holes and questioned her about it.
Ever since she became a professional gymnast, they had begun to burden her when her hair tangled in her earrings. Now she doesn't take the time because it became a habit. I never had any desire to get piercings, probably because of my parents' ideals, yet I had dyed my hair. I guess I could accept some restrictions more than others.
We arrived Friday night rather late in the city and got a cab from the station to the hotel. We checked in and after dinner, we headed to rest. We planned our destinations in advance, wanting to see as much as Paris as they could in only a few hours. Of course, that meant starting an early morning. I wasn't complaining, but Sarina could sleep until the evening. It was a drag to get her up so early.
We headed down to breakfast at the hotel, already dressed and cleaned up for the day. A black wig was placed over my normal hair and I placed a beret over it. I also had fake geek glasses which Sarina commented made me look dorky. I doubted I would get recognized, but I would still be cautious. I wasn't that recognizable by the media yet.
Obviously Sarina tried all the traditional French food, especially the croissants. She was convinced the croissants they made in the UK and France were completely different and to some extent, I agreed. It tasted better in the motherland.
"It's so strange," she commented, buttering her food.
"What is?" I peered at her, curiously.
"I don't understand a single word these people are saying," I found her words very amusing, remembering my exact same thoughts from my time in Spain.
"Well, I'll be your personal translator. It is my second fluent language, after all," I replied, slyly. Her jaw dropped.
"Shut up you!" she lightly jabbed at my sides, trying to get a reaction. I would not give her the satisfaction.
"I thought you knew some French?" she shrugged and sat back, returning to her food before it grew cold.
"Yeah, my dad taught me when I was little. I can't remember half of it," she commented, taking a bite from her food. I hummed in thought.
"You don't talk much about your family," I decided to bring up, but I wasn't too sure if it was a touchy subject or not. She nodded slowly before taking a deep breath and moved into a more upright positon.
"Yeah, I guess... my parents got divorced when I was five and my dad moved back to France and started another family. He comes to see me when I'm at nationals, but I haven't talked to him for quite some time," she admitted to me, and I couldn't help but feel a little relief that she was willing to talk about it.
"So you're half French?" I peered at her curiously, peaking at her features. She shrugged.
"Yeah, but not many people can tell," she said, stroking a quick finger down the side of her cheek.
"Maybe you should be the one wearing this beret," I indicated towards my head.
"I don't think that's needed," she told me with a chuckle, returning to her food. I hummed in though.
"You've always had a great fashion sense. But now that we're on the subject, I've wanted to talk to you about that," she furrowed her brows at me.
"About what?"
"You were sort of like a goth, right? So why did you decide to suddenly change?" she finished chewing before answering me.
"I wouldn't say I was a goth, more like I was gothic. I loved my black hair and all the black makeup. It just felt like... me,"
"Then why change?" she sighed at my question.
"You know, it was a sudden decision but I don't necessarily regret it. I mean... I miss it, sure, but there's always two sides to a coin," I couldn't tell if she was disappointed with herself or not.
"Thank you," I told her with honesty, knowing it was because of me that she decided to change so drastically. She took a deep breath and nodded.
"Not a single regret,"
♕♥ ♕♥ ♕
The entire day we spent checking out the popular sights. The Arc De Triomphe was none of my favourites because it reminded me of the large structures I saw in Spain. Sarina's favourite was rather obvious, as it was the Eiffel Tower. The reason for this was the fact that late afternoon we went to have a private meal on the very top, and we did not take the stairs.
It was starting to get dark and we saw the sunset from the top of the tower. It was like a Van Gogh painting with all the beautiful mixtures of colours from such altitude. To say we were the same as when we arrived the morning was a bit untrue. Sarina opened to me about a lot of things through the day and me as well. I told her a bit about my brother's insecurities and about my mother's harsh decisions. She told me about some memories she had with her father and how her mother was never really the same after that.
It was because of that hard time in her life that she turned to guitar for a coping mechanism, seeing as gymnastics had been there even before all that happened.
I felt honoured at the fact that she was willing to tell me about herself in such depth, but I guess that was what a good relationship entailed. Communication was key and love was the lock. I wouldn't say that I was in love with Sarina, but in this moment I had never adored anyone more. I felt like I was on top of the world with her by my side, and looking out over the tower's railings, I truly felt that.
"Have you ever been here?" Sarina elected to ask me, cuddled up against my one arm as we looked over Paris.
"Besides Spain, I've never outside the UK," I admitted to her.
"But why? If it's so easy for you to go to another country, like I don't even know how you did the documentation in such a short time, then why haven't you ever just popped into Russia for a quick visit?" her curiosity took a hold of her, and I sighed in response.
"It wouldn't be fun to go alone. So I guess I never had the right person to go with," I looked towards her with a bright smile, her eyes immediately meeting mine. We stood there for a little while, so close that out breaths tangles with each other's. Her eyes held such beautiful spectrums that it made my knees weak. What did I ever do to deserve someone this perfect?
And I had strict beliefs about perfection.
She leaned down towards me the same time I headed up, our lips meeting halfway. We kissed slowly but passionately, gripping onto each other as if we wouldn't survive another day. A faint 'Ooh la la!' was heard behind us from the French chef but neither of us cared enough to stop. This was our moment, and we were making the most of it.
A loud swooshing sounds began to overtake us as an intense wind surrounded us. Sarina pulled away from me in shock, probably thinking a tornado would attack us. Her eyes grew wider by the second when she realized the source of the air currents. As if ceremoniously, a pitch black helicopter rose up at the side of the tower, stopping right in front of us. It hovered there and the door slid open to reveal Ian, a smug look on his face.
"Oh my chicken nuggets! What is happening?" Sarina took a few steps back, a disbelieving look plastered on her face. I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Our lift is here," I announced, holding my hand out towards her. She looked at me in utter shock.
"Our what?!" an even louder 'Ooh la la!' sounded behind us as the chef fell dramatically into the waiter's arms, his hand over his heart. Hesitantly, Sarina accepted my hand and allowed herself to be pulled by me towards the edge of the tower. She suddenly dug her heels into the ground, stopping us form moving. "Wait!" she called to me and turned me to face her, her hands on my arms. My eyes were wide.
"Yes?" I chuckled nervously.
"Will you be my girlfriend?!" she shouted over the loud noises the helicopter made, but I didn't care one bit. My grin grew wider by the second as I felt my excitement wanting to burst.
"Yes!" I called out, moving to kiss her flush against her lips.
"Ah! Mon chéri! Mon Coeur!" the chef finally left the world of the living, falling slack against the waiter as he fell unconscious.
I pulled away from Sarina to give her one wide smile, one where I felt no bad thing could ever affect us again. I grabbed her hand and made a running towards the railing, Sarina following me as she laughed hysterically. I went to stand on the railing, maybe the most daring thing I've ever done and reached until Ian caught my hand. I was pulled into the helicopter and assisted in getting Sarina inside. We took our seats and put on the blood stopping seatbelts, Ian pulling the doors closed before taking his own seat. I could see that our luggage was already packed and on the helicopter, waiting to go with us.
"This is just crazy!" Sarina exclaimed, staring out the window as we flew over Paris towards the train station. I chuckled at her reaction.
"Well, I thought that we might need to go out in style!" she shook her head at me as if it was the craziest thing she had ever heard.
"Only you can pull this off," she told me, watching as the Eiffel Tower grew smaller from out bird eye view.
"Well, of course. I told you, didn't? Go big or go home," I didn't miss her teary eyes as we left our weekend getaway, and our very first date. I intertwined her fingers with mine, our vision trained on the City of Love.