Crossing busy Parisian streets with Pierre while holding his hand felt so right. He was the reason why you felt like you fitted in.
He looked so French. From his black Converse comme des garcons, through loose black formal trousers and white t-shirt almost entirely covered by a beige flannel shirt, to his long dark grey wool coat. So casual and yet so chic. That was a spell of Frenchmen. How could any woman resist this temptation?
When you could resist their looks and sense of fashion, how could you resist their personality? Frenchmen are always flattering you, making your cheeks scarlet red. Occasionally, leaving you weak at the knees. They know how to use words.
You tried your best to fit here as well. Before you headed to the streets, you spent almost an hour on Pinterest looking for some winter Parisian outfit. So there you were, wearing heeled black ankle boots, loose black formal trousers, oversized beige turtleneck jumper and camel coat. You didn't notice before, but you realised that you matched with Pierre.
"Ma chéri?" His voice pulled you back to reality. The reality of freezing streets filled with the scent of freshly roasted coffee made you somehow happy.
"Yes? Sorry, I zoned out," You giggled thanks to embarrassment.
"Yeah, I noticed. You seem quiet today. Is everything okay?" You didn't even realise that you were that quiet. Your head was full of trying to fitting in that you kinda forgot to talk.
"Yes, but can I get a kiss?" You asked him with a cute innocent smile on your lips. So he bent down, his lips against yours, brushing it lightly, and still that light touch sent shivers through your nerves, shivers that made your whole body tremble.
"Actually, can I get another one?" The next kiss is the kind that breaks open the sky. It stole your breath and gave it back. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, gentle but demanding. Your fingers gripped his hair, pulling him closer. You felt him — all of him — pressed against you, and you inhale his shaving cream, his shampoo, and that extra scent that was just... him. The most delicious smell you could ever imagine. His lips tasted like honey. His face had the slightest bit of stubble, and it rubbed your skin, but you didn't care at all.
"Someone's in a cuddly mood," he stated with a happy smile on his lips. "Well, this cuddly mood will need to wait till evening because I wanna pamper you now," he said when he led you to near Tiffany & Co shop.
"Bonjour, madam, monsieur. Puis-je vous aider?" Oh, how ashamed you were that you don't speak French. The seller lost you after monsieur, but thankfully you had Pierre with you.
You zoned out again when they were both speaking French. Pierre tried to teach you a few words, but French was never your strength. Looking around, you saw all those beautiful earrings, necklaces and wedding rings.
"Madam, your boyfriend said you're interested in some earrings, right?" A thick French accent reached your ears. Pierre's accent is less noticeable than this one. Your answer was a simple nod since you didn't know Pierre wanted to buy you earrings. The jeweller showed you almost twenty pairs of earrings. All of them were from rose gold with a diamond, so you assumed it was something that Pierre ordered. You didn't complain since you liked this style. It took a while before you picked the perfect ones - rose gold earrings with diamonds that had the shape of five leaves. They were so cute and petite, and you loved them. You demanded to know the price, but Pierre said you didn't have to know, since it was a gift for you.
"May I ask you a favour, please? I need to choose one of the wedding rings for the display case. Would you help me with that?" The jeweller asked you politely. He showed you a dozen of rings, but you were astounded by all of them, but the last one left you speechless. The round brilliant centre diamond set among four slim prongs, giving this ring a timeless and feminine spirit with clean, contemporary lines. A slender band of micro-pavé-set diamonds lent this ring a distinctly romantic sensibility with a modern edge.
"This one is wonderful," you pointed at that one.
"Don't be shy. Try it on." Jeweller invited you to try it on your finger. At first, you didn't want to since it was an expensive one, but then you didn't resist the temptation and put it on your ring finger. "I would definitely put this one to the display case."
And then there was French again. You didn't understand why they didn't speak English, so you looked at Pierre unhappily. "Sorry, mon amour, we talked about the price," he explained, kissing your hair before asking you to turn around, so you wouldn't see the price on a till.
It was almost noon when you headed to one of the best restaurants, and then you went sightseeing. Time flew by, and it was four when Pierre said that he wanted to show you one of his favourite places in Paris. Before you even knew it, you were in Montmartre in front of La Maison Rose. This whole place was so aesthetic, the sun sinking beyond the horizon. And then suddenly, Pierre got down on one knee, holding a box from Tiffany & Co in his hands.
"I was hoping one of these days you'd get all modern woman and propose to me, but since you haven't, I thought I better ask before you get the chance to decide you'd rather propose to someone else. Also, I got down on one knee for you, and whether you say 'yes' or 'no,' I'm going to need your help getting back up. So now, when you know all the terms and conditions. Will you marry me?" Everyone on the street stopped to see your reaction. You could feel tears of joy in your eyes. Since you were unable to speak thanks to the emotions, you nodded a couple of times.
"Okay, now let's seal the contract with a kiss."
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