Shinigami in Paris

09. Tender Is the Night

Somewhere down there, the old life remained. The sounds of the city, mantled in a veil of night, were barely perceptible at the very top of the Eiffel Tower. Here, at the height of bird flight, everything seemed to be as in a fairy tale. Miniature houses, small cars, tiny men – everything is so toy, cute, like in the picture.

The young artist was no longer afraid. She sat on the spire of the highest point in Paris, swaying her dangling legs, and she was not afraid. She felt good. Good, as it felt when the summer holidays have come, and all the worries are behind. Felt good, as it happens when you want to stop time and dissolve in this moment. Good, as it felt when you're in love.

She still couldn't see him, but that couldn't hinder her from feeling his warm, airy embrace, his tender care.

"You know, I still can't understand is it a dream or a delusion? After all, is it possible to be real? It seems to me that you are the one I have been looking for all my life. It's funny... I don't even see you, but for some reason it seems to me that you are now looking at me with your green eyes and smiling."

And green-eyed Tim sat next to her, hugging her and smiling. So sad that she can't see him. So sad that she can't hear him. Nor touch his lips.

Paris at night was wondrous. The nights here were saturated with the scent of love, wine and a movable feast that is always with you. The trees sang the gentle melody of the wind. And the warm light of street lamps affably enveloped with its weightless haze.

Tim picked up Rose and soared. The little girl squealed with joy, tugging at her mother's dress so that she could look at the marvel in the night sky. But adults too rarely look at the sky and see nothing.

Flying over the city of love, Tim was heading to the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, in the very center of which, in the middle of an emerald lake, a rocky island raised to the sky, as if someone had moved a piece of fairy-tale Neverland from a Peter Pan novel here. He was her Peter and she was his Wendy.

A charming temple seemed to grow at the very edge of a 30-meter cliff covered with greenery. Temple de la Sybille – a lovely architectural structure with columns supporting the dome was the heart of the park. It offered a beautiful view of Paris at night. But still, the most romantic scenery of the park was the lakeshore overlooking Neverland. Our Peter landed there with his Wendy.

To her shame, Rose had never been to this park before. It never attracted her. But now, together with her invisible beloved, it seemed to her the most delightful of all the parks. A second later, she exclaimed in admiration even more.

The green-eyed shinigami picked up the flower petals, swirled them in an aerial dance, and wrote: 'T I M'.

"Tim... your name is Tim!" Rose rejoiced.

Yes! Finally, they could talk.

"I'm Rose," she introduced herself, and giggled as the petals wrote her name.

Tim already knew her name, even before they first met. But still, he wanted to write it, shout it over and over again. Rose. Rose. Rose!

"Oh, Tim. If I only could see you..."

The petals swirled in a swift whirlwind. There were more and more of them, they flew towards them from all over the park, until they completely surrounded Rose. Tim extended his hand and the petals covered his invisible hand. The petals continued to wrap around the elegant shinigami's body. His face was dreamlike. Covered in flowers, the mysterious boy from her painting stood in front of her. And though his eyes were still invisible, she knew that they were green and looked at her with tenderness.

They both just stood, as if mesmerized. Words were useless. Rose reached out her hand forward to the face of the flower angel of death and gently touched it. The flower angel smiled and lightly blew on her hand. A cool breeze ran along her arm, gently bending around every curve of the girl's body. Her bronze hair played in time with his breathing. She smiled. Tim reached out his hand and touched her face... and then pulled her to him...

And even if shinigami are not able to feel the world of the living, Timothy at that moment was ready to swear that he felt the warmth of Rose's body, her gentle breath and soft lips.

Ah... Rose! Rose! Rose!

Oh no! Rose!

But it was too late. The petals fell to the ground. Shinigami was gone. Rose stood alone in the middle of the park, which suddenly became so chilling, as if death itself stood behind.