She wants to escape it all. She runs from it. She gets a chance to leave it all behind. And she does, without thinking twice.
Gabrielle leaves France, her home country, when she finds an offer to babysit in London. She doesn't have a lot of ex...
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Boy, was Sam right. We had a lot to see. And I think my brain died today from receiving so much information. I was mesmerized by the beauty of the busy city and all the fascinating buildings ... it just took my breath away. Sam also told me a bit about everything she showed me.
She also explained all about the Tube and on which ones I need to go when I'm going somewhere and what I have to be careful about, but I didn't even remember half of it. I think I'll need a babysitter myself when I'll be walking around this city.
She also tried to drag me in the stores on the famous Oxford street, but I didn't cave. She had a cool style, not the really expensive one, but that cool that speaks 'I don't care what you think about me', which her personality proved her style matches her mind. She spoke her mind, she was funny and really ... energetic.
Right now, it's hard to believe that Alexander is her cousin because there's no way he could be close with someone like her.
When we went for a snack in the middle of the day, literally after I was begging her to go sit down somewhere if she didn't want to carry me around, we talked a bit.
"So, Gabrielle Perth from France. Tell me what brings you here all the way to London." Sam casually leans back on the chair, exposing her face to sunlight, causing her green eyes to get lighter and even more piercing.
I chuckle. "It's Gabby, you know." I look down on the table, uncomfortable that I have to talk about myself. I'm not used to people asking me so much about myself. Usually, they never cared, so they didn't bother. "Well, I ..." I sigh, tracing the table's edge, lifting my eyes to Sam's expecting eyes, "I wanted a change." I look at the busy street, watching all the people walking down it, completely unaware of a broken soul watching all the happiness radiate from them. "I got a chance, the money is good, and here I am." I shrug as if that explains it.
Sam crosses her arms and takes a sip of her coffee, watching me carefully. I bite down on the muffin to mask my discomfort. She leans forward a bit, causing her hair to fall around her face and frame it. "I sense that's not the whole truth, but, hey, we're all hiding something here, so I'll tame my curiosity."
Her words hold deep meaning, but I appreciate her not prying. And how true her words really are. Is there a person in a whole wide world who's not hiding something from others? There must be a part of you that you don't want to show people. It might be good, it might be bad, but there must be something you're holding in, not letting anyone see it closely.
"By the way, your accent is to die for. Goddamn, French people always get me."
I chuckle at her compliment. "Thank you. I think the same way about yours." I know that my accent isn't as strong as it was supposed to be, but I have some English genes in my body and I've also always been big on learning English.
I point at Sam's collarbone, where I noticed a tattoo before. Actually, I noticed two – she also has a big rose on her left bicep.
Sam's fingers go to her collarbone, the move seems subconscious. Something flashes in her eyes, but it might be just the sun playing with the colour of her eyes. Her fingers trace the words. "It's just something I got a few years ago. It's Arabic."
