Being in a city you aren't accustomed to is hard enough as it is, but being there with someone you have completely and utterly fallen out of love with is, quite possibly. the worst. It's enough to make this small town girl from Iowa cry. The isolation alone, is heartbreaking.
You know the exact moment the relationship with your lover is over. The second the love drains from their eyes and is replaced with something resembling resentment. Afterall, you've trapped them into this long-term relationship and it was all for what? For some reason, though the person loathes being in the same room with you, they continue on with routines that have been set in place for two and a half years. There's more at stake for the both of you than a relationship. Or, so you think. It's the only reason you stay together. That, and the comfort of knowing what to expect.
I couldn't say no when he asked me to join him on his latest business trip to Paris. I didn't speak a lick of French and he was too busy with his endeavors to translate anything for me. I was going completely stir crazy in the hotel room. Confined to room service and horribly dubbed films. Staring out the balcony at the Eiffel Tower, was enough to drive any girl mad. He had promised to take me there. He had promised me a lot of things that he never made good on.
And here comes that resentment again.
Currently, I was smoking and watching the sun descend over the city. I didn't really like smoking, but I felt like it was just another one of those things to pass the time. And it made sense to me at the time, to take up smoking in France. And it was also another thing to keep my so-called boyfriend from kissing me, whenever he decides to return to the hotel room. I glanced to the clock on the bedside table - 6:59 PM. He was supposedly off work two hours ago. My cell phone remained silent, so I turned back to the sun.
I was tired, so tired, of standing in this spot watching the city and not experiencing it in fear that I wouldn't be able to communicate anything to anyone. I didn't like feeling like I was in a cage. I threw the cigarette over the railing and turned to go inside. I changed out of the sweats and tee I was wearing into a simple black dress and flats. I looked in the mirror and put on red lipstick, keeping my bright eyes naked. I fluffed my hair and left the place that had held me prisoner for almost two weeks to adventure out into the beautiful city.
There was an issue to not speaking French - it was nearly impossible to hail a cab. It was a beautiful summer evening, so I didn't really need one. Especially, since I hadn't the slightest clue where I was going. Or what I wanted to do. The streets of Paris are lively at night, like they are in any big city. But even if I was back home, in America, in a place like Chicago, LA, or NYC, I would still essentially be a fish out of water. Instead of being scared, like I thought I would be, I was envigorated. The life of the city breathed energy into my soul. I was smiling, for the first time in a very long time.
I wandered the streets, the sun finally relinquishing it's final light to the moon above. Streets lamps began to illuminate the roads and sidewalks. I passed group after group, couple after couple, all on their way to something big. Some plans they made with friends or just with one another. Dinner. Drinks. Dancing. It was a promising sight. Though, it brought a certain sadness to light. I was alone on these streets with no plans. No friends. I was in a foreign city and the one person I knew, I practically detested.
I shrugged off the negativity and stepped inside the Buddha Bar. The place, richly decorated in the best Middle Eastern decorations you could find. It was also packed to the brim as I made my way to the elaborate bar. I was in complete awe, staring around me. The colors were vibrant and intoxicating. The people, fun and friendly. You could hear the sensual language being spoken above the enchanting music. I hadn't noticed someone was awaiting my order. I turned quickly and thought of the first drink that came to mind and ordered it - French 75. When in Rome? Well, I suppose, When in Paris? The guy nodded simply and went to fix it. I turned back around to people watch. You don't get this kind of thing on the television or looking out a window, seven stories up. Close up and personal. It trumped isolated any day of the week.
"Bonsoir, beau. Peux je t'offrir un verre?" A man, early thirties my guess, slid into the recenty vacated seat next to me. I didn't cringe because he was unattractive or a good ten years older than me. He wasn't bad for an older man. I cringed because he was much too close and speaking a language that was, of course, romantic, but one I didn't understand at all.
"I'm sorry. I don't speak French."
"You are in France, no?" He asked. Oh yippy. One that speaks English.
"Yes. No? I mean-" So easily confused am I. "Yes, I know I am in France."
"Silly thing, not to speak the language." He was grinning at me, though it seemed more of a mocking one than a comforting, welcoming one. I knew the French weren't our biggest fans and I must have seemed like quite the ignorant tourist. I brushed it off but the man didn't turn from me. "You think you are better than us, yes?" Now he was just being rude.
"No, I don't think I'm better than you." I just wish you would leave me alone.
"You are-"
"Excusez-moi, merci." A man, more my age and stunningly handsome slid inbetween the man and I to order his drink - Rum and Coke. What a man drink. He looked over at me and smiled, winking. I knew then that he slid in at this particular spot for a reason. To save me. I was grateful.
"Merci." My French accent was terrible, but I at least knew how to thank him in his own laguage. I knew I must have seen him somewhere, though I hadn't been on the streets of France until tonight but he just looked so familiar. I thought, perhaps, he was in one of the many French films I watched while trapped in my room.
"You're welcome." He smiled at me, paying for his drink and turning his back on the rude man. He sipped it, then set it back on the bar. It almost escaped my notice that he wasn't French, but British. "Not all people in France hate Americans, you know?"
"That's promising. This is my first night out in the city. I was about to let his remarks tarnish the entire country's reputation in my mind. Luckily, you're here to tell me I'm wrong in doing that."
"Well, it would be a shame to think low of a city with so much history."
"You're entirely right." I laughed along with him, sipping my own drink but watching him drink his out of the corner of my eye. He was undeniably gorgeous now that I took him in seriously. The red and orange lights played in his rusty brown hair wonderfully.
"Student?"
"Excuse me?" I was too busy staring to hear what he asked me.
"Are you a student?"
"Oh. No. I mean, I was, but that's not why I'm here."
"Then why are you here, miss..."
"Chloe."
"Chloe. I'm Robert." We shook hands and then fell back into silence. "So?"
"So what?"
He laughed again, shaking his head. "What brings you to a country whose language you can't speak?"
"Oh. I just graduated. My way of celebrating, I suppose. And my boyfriend kind of dragged me here on his business trip." For some reason, I almost didn't tell him about my boyfriend.
"You know, Paris is one of the most romantic places in the world."
"Romance means very little to me." I admitted, looking into my glass.
"How sad." He wasn't mocking me with how he said it. He was honestly troubled by my statement. I held his gaze for awhile but finally broke it. His grey-blue eyes were too deep, I felt like I was drowning in them.
"What brings you here?"
"Work."
A simple statement, but it left me wondering. "What do you do?"
"I make films."
It clicked then. And I felt so oblivious and stupid that I nearly hit myself upside the head. Of course. Robert Pattinson. The world's favorite vampire. Every girl's fantasy was sitting, well standing, at a bar with me in Paris. The most romantic city in the world, according to him. He was watching me, I could feel it, as I laughed to myself.
"Do I get to hear the joke?"
"It's not a good one. I just finally pieced together who you are."
"Ah. That wounds my ego."
"Oh, I wasn't laughing about you. I was laughing because it took me so long to figure it out."
"Ah. I feel a bit better, thank you."
I nodded, finishing my drink as he finished his. An idea, a strange one, popped into my head. He seemed at ease here, he seemed to know the language well enough to get around, and I had nothing to do tonight. I didn't want to go back to the room. I wanted to see the city. "Are you busy tonight, Robert?"
"Uh, no. No, I'm pretty free tonight. What did you have in mind?" He was shocked at first, and a bit shy. It was strange, considering his profession and all, that he would be bashful.
"Well, I haven't seen much of the city. Well, any of it really. Do you know your way around?"
"I'm fairly well acquainted, sure."
"Would you like to experience the city with me tonight?"
He didn't think it over long before he smiled and slapped money on the bar, leading me out. He didn't answer the question with words, but his hand on the small of my back was a better one than I had originally hoped for. Just the simple touch was enough to shoot a bolt of electricity through me unlike anything I had ever experienced. He didn't hail a car, but shoved his hands in his dark jean pockets and walked along the sidewalk, me beside him.
"What did you study?"
"Uh, literature. What exactly are you doing here in Paris?"
"Interviews. Press stuff. How do you feel about Hemingway?"
"I love him."
"I thought you would. Come on."
He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me along at a quicker pace a few blocks from where we were. It was more than nice being around someone. When I started dating Kevin, I lost essentially all of my friends. I hadn't really hung out with anyone in years other than him. And not even him, this past year. I don't think Robert knew the favor he was doing me. Or maybe he did. Maybe he was just the world's nicest guy.
Robert pulled me into the Ritz-Paris and I was a little baffled. This place was very ornate and expensive looking. It made me more than a little uneasy. We stopped at the door to The Hemingway Bar. A place I had only ever heard of, but never thought I would see. One of my professors claimed to have written his first, and only, novel in one of these very booths like so many great writers before him. I looked up at Robert and he was looking in and smiling.
"Now, I don't recommend we drink here. But it's an interesting place to see, nonetheless. Can you feel the creativity?" He joked, watching older men in their finest converse. Probably about things I would never fully understand. Robert was watching the man at the piano most.
"You play?" I asked, nodding to it.
"Maybe." He smirked, and led me back out. I laughed, he was certainly bashful. The blush across his perfect cheekbones proved that. "I haven't the faintest clue where to take you after that."
"It's okay. We can just walk until we see something interesting."
We walked, talking about ourselves a very little, mostly enjoying the night and the feeling of not being alone in the city. At least, I knew I was. He was easy to get along with and talk to once he opened up a little more out of his shell. I got him to admit some things like the fact he does, indeed, play piano and guitar. I admitted I had only ever seen him as Cedric and that was only because my little nephew is obsessed with the fourth Harry Potter and every time I babysat him for a year he made me watch it with him. He got a good kick out of that.
We were walking down the Avenue des Champs-Elysees, looking in the shops. Robert stared in the window of Nike Paris and it made me laugh again. "It's the best place to find them, Nikes I mean." He explained, shrugging and continuing to walk. I hadn't failed to notice that one of the pairs in the window were also adorning his feet. It made me wonder how much money he actually had versus how much he actually spent. He didn't look like he put much effort into his outfit, but he didn't look like a bum, persay. "Penny for your thoughts?"
I broke out of my trance, staring at the Arc de Triomphe at the end of the avenue. It was hard to miss something that was as closely linked to France as the Eiffel Tower. "Oh. I was thinking about how pretty Paris is."
"Ah. Romantic, I told you."
I laughed. "Yes, you did tell me that. You seem to have an obsession with romance. Is that a European thing?"
He laughed with me, walking towards the arc. "I don't know about it being European. And I wouldn't exactly call it an obsession."
"What would you call it?"
He smiled at me, fully turning towards me and stopping. "I'm in love with love. Aren't you?"
His statement caught me off guard. Who knew the biggest celebrity heartthrob had a heart of gold that was not only a romantic but so open to being in love when most men shun the term? I most certainly didn't. "I don't know enough about love."
He gave a small laugh then turned to keep walking. "Aren't you in love with your boyfriend?"
"No. I dislike him, actually."
"Oh, it makes perfect sense for you two to be together then."
"Your sarcasm is oh-so-subtle. And it's more of a thing of convenience. You like to dance?"
"I'm not very good at it. Why d'you ask?"
I only smirked, pulling him inside Lido Cabaret. The neon lights were dizzying, and I kept a hold of his cold hand. He only manuevered so he could link our hands together. He nodded to the bar, asking if I wanted a drink, but I shook my head and dragged him to the dancefloor. He didn't move as I started swaying to the music, but stood there awkwardly. I shook his shoulders and got on my toes to shout in his ear. "Loosen up!" And finally, he did. He wasn't very good at it, he was being honest. But as soon as he let go a little, I let go a lot and was actually really starting to enjoy myself. Too much, when he pulled me in closer. I should have stopped it. But I didn't want to.
We danced for what seemed like hours, but in truth it had only been slightly under two. It was around midnight as we walked across the bridge that spanned the Siene river. I stopped and leaned on the railing, watching ships pass underneath us. "Do you believe in love at first sight, Robert? You're the expert on love and romance."
"I wouldn't say I'm an expert. I never get on well with girls, actually. And I don't know about love at first sight. Why? Do you?"
"I don't know."
He had his back against the railing, looking down at me. The lights casted a glorious glow on his perfect features. I couldn't stop looking up at him. He had a small smile on his lips as he pushed hair that had blown into my eyes out of my face, pushing it behind my ear. He left his hand there, gently stroking my cheek. "You should see something."
"Alright."
He took my hand again, hailing a cab easily and spoke in flawless French to the driver. But I heard something imporant. Something unmistakable. Robert was taking me to the Eiffel Tower. He had his arm around my shoulders in the cab and all I could do was keep looking at him. It seemed he held the same sentiment as we sped through the streets. Every now and then he would crack a grin or stroke my cheek. What was it that I was experiencing with him? I had no clue whatsoever what had gotten into me to do something like this with someone I had never met. Let alone a celebrity.
Robert and I laid on the grass watching the elevators go up and down on the lit up tower. He had asked if I wanted to go up, but I really didn't. I knew it was not only expensive, but I didn't really like heights. I just liked looking at it. It was so much different than seeing pictures of it. It was beautiful. Robert's arm under my neck, on the grass, was something that wouldn't ever be able to go unnoticed. His touches were exhilerating. And I enjoyed that he kept me close. Much more than I should.
"When do you have to go back?" He asked, pulling my attention away from the magnificent piece of architecture.
"Whenever."
"I meant home."
"Oh. I think we leave on Sunday." Three days left. Unless, they didn't make the deal.
"Do you have something waiting for you at home?"
"Not really. I don't know what I want to do. What about you? How long are you here for?"
"Until tomorrow night."
"Oh." It upset me too much. I barely knew the guy, aside from the things he's told me tonight. And yet here I was, completely saddened by the fact he was leaving tomorrow when I shouldn't even be laying here with him right now.
Robert grabbed the hand that was laying in the grass on my other side with his free one. He held our hands up, palm to palm, fingers to fingers. His were much longer than mine, it made me feel small. "Do you feel that?"
Strangely, I knew what he meant. The electricity running from his skin to mine and back. "Yes."
"What do you reckon it is?"
I turned my head to the side to see him looking at me. "A connection?"
"I like that." He gave me a cute and crooked smile. "Are you tired?"
"No. Are you?"
He shook his head then helped me off the grass. We walked around the streets more, he held my hand this time, keeping me close to him. I didn't check the time on the clock tower above us as we passed. I hadn't cared. I left my cell phone in the room, but I knew that Kevin would be pissed that I was still out. Unless he himself wasn't back yet and that was entirely likely.
"Where are we going?"
"You like movies?"
"Of course."
"Old movies?"
"Yes."
He pulled me into an old-style cinema called Nova. The man at the concessions waved to Robert, which he returned, then pulled me into a theater. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest was playing. It was about halfway through when we took seats in the back of the nearly empty theater. I held his hand in both of mine in my lap as we watched. I was learning more about him in one night than I had ever learned about Kevin in the years we had been together. And he had asked me more questions, too. He cared about what I had to say. It was a new sensation, talking about myself.
It was nearing three-thirty when I looked at the clocktower we had passed on the way there. "Where to now, tour guide?"
He scratched his chin with his free hand, pondering. "I have no idea. Still not tired?"
"Nope. You?"
"Not at all. Would it be entirely inappropriate of me to ask you back to my room?"
"No, not entirely."
We both laughed. He hailed a cab and spoke the sexy and sensual language, once again, telling the driver where to go. He held me to him like last time, humming something in my ear as we both looked out the windows of the car. On my side, the Siene River and the Eiffel Tower both passed by me. On his, City Walks of Paris and the Luevre. What a wonderful city. Strange to think I hated it just a mere twelve hours or so ago.
Robert's hotel was much fancier than mine and not far from the river. It had a nice view of the city, an expansive view from the tenth floor, where his room was. As we rode the elevator up, my head fell onto his shoulder. He was slouching slightly, making it possible. He dropped my hand and put an arm around my shoulders, pressing his cheek to my hair.
The doors opened and he dropped his arm to grab my hand again and pulled me out. He was smiling at me, like he had all night. And it was infectious, so I smiled back, like I had been all night. He twirled me as we walked down the hall, pulling his room key out with his other hand. I had started laughing so he twirled me again, getting me a little dizzy. It got him laughing too, when I couldn't walk a straight line. He opened his door quickly, a bit roughly.
It was safe to say the place was a bit disheveled, like his perfectly tousled hair. He didn't bother dropping my hand to push aside the clothing that laid on the floor. The dishes adorning the table looked like they were from this morning. Room service. It was funny seeing that he enjoyed it nearly as much as I did. I even saw remnants of the same fruit bowl I had ordered. With the grapefruit. I started laughing again.
"This better be funnier than the last time..." He warned, closing the curtains that looked out on the balcony.
"Not really. We ordered the same breakfast."
"Maybe I was supposed to meet you tonight. Afterall, it was your first night out here. And my first time in a bar since my plane landed here. You do believe in Fate, don't you?"
I thought it over. "I'm beginning to."
I stretched next to the sleeping boy next to me. We were under the expensive sheets, coiled in a cocoon from the actions that had taken place. My clothes joined his on the floor, my hair now in a state of disarray I was sure matched his. His strong, pale arm was draped across my abdomen, head nuzzled into the pillow above my shoulder. His lips had lingered there for a good while after we had finished having sex.
I looked over at the clock - 6:59 AM. I rolled back over and nudged Robert until his eyes twitched open. "You alright, Chloe?" His already deep and sexy voice was huskier, bringing back all the things that had just recently transpired. I nodded.
"Come with me?"
He smiled, still sleep-ridden. "Of course."
I grabbed his shirt that laid next to the bed and slipped it on with my underwear. He grabbed his boxer briefs and a shirt from his suitcase as I opened the curtains to reveal the sleeping city. He came up from behind me, pulling the comforter off the bed. It was a good thing he did, the morning was a bit nippy and I didn't have any pants on. There was a big lounge chair on the balcony that I pushed Robert down on. I climbed into his lap and he wrapped the blankets around us both.
"What are we doing, darling?"
"The sun's rising." I whispered. And within minutes, you could see the yellows, pinks, and blues of the sun coming up to banish the moon. Robert kissed my neck, cheek, then my temple. I turned to look at him, biting my lip. He just stared at me, not the beautiful display of nature in front of us. "What?"
"You're more beautiful." He sweeped hair out of my face and kissed me passionately until I was gasping for air. He pulled back and looked at me. "Do you like Paris?"
"Much more than I had."
"You'd probably like London, you know?"
I smiled. "Oh would I?"
"Yes. I'm a much better tour guide there than I am here."
"I guess you'll have to prove that to me, then."
He just smiled, nodded, then pulled me in for another electrically mind-blowing kiss.
Playlist
"Tommib" by Squarepusher
"Birthday Colour" by Flashbulb
"Breather" by Chapterhouse
"Surrender" by Black Cab
"When You're Sad" by AR Kane
"Ikebana" by Kevin Shields
"The Weight Of Love" by Tears Run Rings
"Zoetrope" by Boards of Canada
"Dirty Water" by The Jesus And Mary Chain
"Reanimate My Heart" by The Apers
"Further Clues To Reality" by Markus Rueter
"Walk" by Freeform
