Paris and us

Chapter 7

The warm sunlight shined on my face. The windows must be open, I could hear the birds twittering outside. The air was filled with the smell of grass and earth. I could feel the softness of the fitted sheet under my legs. Some fancy 1000 counts Egyptian cotton. I could get used to this life.

I opened my eyes. Louis was sitting on an antique armchair.. He was drawing something on a sketchbook. His eyes brows narrowed. I could hear every stroke the pencil made. A man is so sexy when he is concentrated with such intensity. He was just wearing a grey cotton pyjamas pants. His upper body is slim but slightly muscular, I could tell he went to the gym regularly.

"Good Morning, Mr Vallois," I asked

He looked up and smiled, "Good morning, did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. What are you drawing?"

"You."

"Oh, so you draw me like one of those French girls?" I smiled.

"If you wish, just remove the blanket and your clothes so I can definitely draw your naked body," he smirked.

"Maybe another day. Now, have you finished the drawing? Because I need to pee."

He laughed. "Go, don't spoil my bedsheets, they are my favourite set."

I ran to the en-suite toilets, did my business and freshened up a bit. If I were one of his ex girlfriends, I would have gotten up at 6am to do my makeup and hair to show him only the impeccable look. One of his ex girlfriends said this during an interview. I admired her determination and discipline.

I myself preferred sleeping a few hours more. If he got scared by my natural makeup-free face and ran away, it would be his problem, not mine.

When I got out, he was still drawing.

"Can I see it?"

"Sure. Just look at yourself at the mirror."

I walked behind him and looked at it anyway. It was a pencil drawing of me when I slept.

"You looked so peaceful and sweet when you are asleep," he uttered.

"How do I look when I am awake then?"

"Mysterious and discreet. Now, let's go downstairs for breakfast."

We entered the kitchen. It was renovated with the modern white cabinets and Italian marble countertops, but they kept the original stone chimney with beautiful moulding.

He was getting the jam, orange juice, and yogurt in the fridge and put them on the breakfast table. Then he put the capsules in the coffee machine. I put the bread in the toaster.

"Do you come here very often? Your fridge is filled with food," I asked. (Hint: your fridge has more food than mine, but I live in my home everyday!)

"I come here as often as I can, if I am not flying around the world. I told the staff to stock up the fridge before we arrived, that's all."

I sat down on the chair. "Where are your staff now?"

"They are not here today, just you and me for the weekend."

"What a pity! I expected the full Chateau lifestyle for the weekend. You know, like in Downton Abbey where you have cooks, maids, butler and footman to serve me. Now you are telling me I just stay in a big mansion but I have to cook and to dress myself? What a disappointment!"

"I am at your service, your majesty. But I am not a good cook, we can go out for the meals."

"Fine, I will cook. I don't want to waste the food in the fridge."