Will We Talk? ~ A PG10 Short Story

10. Break me like a promise

Title from: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (the 10 min version of course)

Tysm for all the reads comments & votes ❤️ Ellie gives big Amy from Love Island energy in this chapter iykyk

I have to shake the nerves from my hands, like...actually shake them away. If I don't I feel like my body is going to explode and I'll melt into a pile of nerves. The action helps to distract my mind from the night ahead. If I think about it too much I may actually be sick.

The last two days have flown by. Between working and answering Pierre's texts I've barely had time to think. When I wasn't replying to his texts, I was talking with him on the phone, or he was round at my apartment cooking me food or tidying the place up for me. He's been compensating for missed time now that I've given him an inch, and I won't hesitate to give him a mile if this is how it's going to be. Everytime Pierre flashes me his bright (yet nervous) smile, butterflies swarm in me and I have to drop my gaze from him so I don't completely lose focus.

He succeeded in making me lose focus last night.

We were stretched out on my L-Shaped couch, a mug of tea in my hands, water in his, when he turned to me and said "Let's go on a date Ellie."

Pierre's words weren't a question but a statement. I choked on air when they left him. Just blinking at him wide eyed for a minute, or maybe three, before Pierre repeated my name. In response I just found myself nodding in agreement to his non-question. I didn't know what else to do.

Thinking back to it I should've laughed at him, pointed out that we didn't need a date. We know eschother well enough. We never dated before, although I suppose he never confessed his undying love before now. This is truly new territory. Thinking back to it I should've grinned and kissed him for the suggestion (I'd been thinking about doing it long enough). However I did none of that.

So here I am.

I'm more nervous than I ever thought I would be. My pulse is pounding. I can feel it in my neck to the point where if I really focus I can feel my heart pumping my blood around every inch of my body. Although, maybe that's just my nerves. So to distract myself I continue shaking my hands. Imagining the nerves actually flying out of them with each movement. It's a tactic I remember Mama telling me about before my first day of school here in Rouen. It didn't work then and I'm not sure it's working now.

It was worth the try I suppose.

Pierre said he would pick me up at 7. It's currently 7:01. His tardiness is not helping me out today.

I puff out a breath checking out the window again. It's probably the tenth time I've done it in the last 15 minutes, the black Lexus I've become so familiar with over the last few days is nowhere to be seen. Not that I expect it to be, Pierre's never on time - or at least he never was. Instead of panicking I pull out my lipgloss, applying another small layer to my lips. Focusing on adding finishing touches to my outfit helps detract from the anxiety. At least momentarily.

Since Sunday morning, time with Pierre has been a dream. I managed to sneak out of Pascale's house without her spotting me. Usually I wouldn't mind, but I can only imagine what she'd think we'd been up to if she caught me tiptoeing out her front door after not even seeing me arrive. I doubt she would think we were playing snap that's for sure. According to Pierre she thinks that something happened, but as long as we keep our lips sealed she won't know a thing. Once he dropped me home we texted all night. It left me setting my alarms for work with a grin before falling asleep with a warm feeling in my chest.

Pierre called me on my lunch break yesterday and then came around for dinner last night. I could feel my heart almost bursting when he arrived with the ingredients for Pad Thai (my favourite) in hand and a proud grin on his face. We ate, watched tv and chatted as he cleaned up my kitchen afterwards as if it was the most casual thing in the world. He left by 9.30, kissing me goodbye in the doorway leaving butterflies swarming in my stomach.