Nine Lives

Paris

"Amelia."

Me and Blake were walking down the busy main road, the rain coming to a stop as we dodged puddles and watched out for spray from passing cars. The sun was fully risen now, my ball of fire now a glowing star to lighten the day. As I let the black coffee warm my throbbing hands, the mist in front of my face grew thinner, my breathing syncing with Blake's.

"Amelia" He repeated after me, rolling the name around his tongue "...quite mysterious." Blake chugged down his hot chocolate, the cream melting onto his chin and creating a frothy milky way.

"It means work."

Blake laughed at this. It wasn't funny, but I found myself joining in. "Work...wow, what a definition."

"Well, what the hell does Blake mean? At least i'm one with a hard-working nature." My coffee was irritably bitter, the taste staining my tonsils

"All I know is that it originates from Old English...i'm making history."

"I guess both our parents didn't really think about the deeper meaning of our names before they signed the birth certificate." My parents actually named me after the inexperienced tour guide who sent my dad down the wrong path on the day they met, a symbol of their love together - my mum asked my dad to marry her on the snowy hills of a ski resort, and from what I've heard, the moment was extremely magical, and the celebrations unbelievably wild.

"Amelia...Amelia..." Blake repeated my name, letting the L linger on his tongue.

"Well done, do you know any other words?"

"I like it." He concluded.

Blake was...unorthodox. The more I stared, the more mesmerised I became. He held himself with such...freedom, the way he half skipped, half strutted while holding himself up high. He was the symbol of a care free life, his exterior sparking no immediate anxieties or burdens - just a creation of fresh, electric energy.

"So, Amelia...what's you're favourite adventure?" He did ask some rather strange questions.

"Adventure? Well, I suppose I haven't yet witnessed the world's greatest adventures." I sipped at my coffee, filling his wicked silence.

"Come on, a girl with such spirit as you must have one great adventure under her belt?" A girl with such spirit...he really didn't know me.

I let the flowing lanes of traffic muffle my racing thoughts, the draining adrenaline settling exhaustion as I cradled my bare arms. "Im pretty ordinary, much to my own disappointment."

"Im not ordinary." Blake finished his drink, tapping the paper cup to a hidden melody.

"I can see that." I valued his sharpness, the way he didn't care what others thought of him.

"Just last week, I drove to France. The urban air in the city is suffocating, big red buses; flashing traffic lights - there's no mystery, nothing to discover. So, I filled my tank, created quite a phenomenal playlist, dumped a bag in my passenger footwell and started my journey to the city of love. The buzz was ruby, the crown jewel of France shining upon my arrival, the long ferry trip spent dreaming of the cobbled streets and suburban wonders" he told, like a professor reading one of Englands many romantic classics." You see, Paris is a city, yet built like a village. Everyone knows one another, small businesses rule the streets and the architecture is built like a fairytale - rectangular and quaint."

What a life! Being able to drop everything, just because he was dissatisfied with the taste of the oxygen we breath...how the other half live... maybe he was a city boy...?

"The Eiffel Tower is quite disappointing", he continued. "I'm no tourist, the sights of deep and devilish Pari awaiting down side streets of baking bread and feverish love interest me a whole lot more."