Another year and you were coming back to your hometown. You only come back once a year for a Christmas. Rouen might be your hometown, but you hardly recognise it by now. It's such a different city. You remember times when all your friends used to live here. Juliette lived down the street, Madeleine's place was just a few streets away, and Pierre was from a city centre. They are just a few of many friends you had here, but times are different now. Pierre and Juliette moved away years ago. Madeleine moved just recently to London. You felt like every year another friend of yours moves away.
Your two older sisters were coming for Christmas as well. As much as you loved them, you felt kinda jealous of them. One has a baby now, the other one is writing vows, and you're alone. No Australian caught your eye even though you're living in Perth for almost four years. Dating was never really your thing. Till now, you had just two boyfriends. The first one was Pierre, but you probably can't even count him as a boyfriend because you were 12 years old. The boyfriend number two came into your life during high school. His name was Mathis, at first he was a perfect match, but in the end, it turned out he wasn't a particularly nice guy.
This morning your mum got into her 'I'm cleaning whole home' mood, and you decided to escape by going for a walk. Walking through the city, you suddenly saw a familiar Frenchman walking in your direction. You couldn't believe your eyes. You haven't seen Pierre for years.
"Y/N?" The shock in his voice was undeniable. He opened his arms and hugged you tightly. So many things have changed. He was taller, fitter. His brunette hair had blond highlights.
"I haven't seen you for years. Where do you live now?" Another question came out of his mouth.
"In Perth," You tried to smile at him, but you failed. Moving to Australia wasn't really your dream, and he knows it. As children, you were close and shared your dreams and goals. He's pretty sure your dream was to live in Monaco.
"Australia, huh? Pretty far away," he pointed out, and you began to feel like he knows you were running away.
"Yeah, what about you?" You asked kindly, even though you were fully aware that he lives in Monaco.
"I still live in Monaco, but you know how it is. I travel a lot so, I ain't there often." His answer didn't surprise you. He has been busy since childhood, always travelling for races and championships.
"Still keeping it busy, I see. How is your racing anyway?" You felt kinda embarrassed when this question left your lips because you felt like you should know.
"I'm racing for Alpha Tauri in Formula 1." He chuckled, and you could see how happy he is. It was one of his goals, after all. "What about you? Do you still do gymnastics?"
"Well, just for fun," You gave him a decent smile. Pierre joined you, and you didn't mind. It was nice to have a conversation with one of your old friends after such a long time.
"Y/N!" You were at a small park near the city centre, and he shouted your name, which made you turn towards him. At that exact moment, you saw a snowball flying in your direction and hitting your upper body. You quickly made some snowballs, and the fight was on. You hit Pierre right in the face, and it makes him start chasing you. You obviously started running away, but since Pierre was fitter, he caught you pretty quickly. He wanted to put snow under your jacket, so you tried to back out from his embrace and thanks to that, you both fell to the ground.
You were lucky because you fell on Pierre, but you were sure it had to be a pretty hard fall for him. "Are you okay?" you asked him.
"Yeah," he said, staring into your eyes. "Have someone already told you that you're gorgeous?" He put a strand of hair behind your ear. You wanted to answer, but his behaviour just left you speechless. As you were getting closer, your heart decided to skip a beat, the smell of him hypnotic beyond reason. Your whole body tingled. His arms wrapped around you felt nearly forbidden. He pulled you in, claiming your mouth, hungry and intense. Pierre kept his eyes half-open, sneaking a guilty peek at you every time he came back for air, just to make sure it wasn't a product of his imagination. You didn't know whether you were kissing for five minutes or five hours and your mouth felt bruised, but you couldn't let go. Because it was so good to be held.
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