andante ❈ benjamin pavard

ELEVEN

           The pair exited the parlor in a pit of giggles. Zoe couldn't really remember what they were laughing at, but Ben was laughing and that was all that mattered. Their hands brushed dangerously close together as they walked side by side, again, and Zoe made a conscious effort to clasp her hands in front of her body. She didn't need any more temptation. She felt like she wore her heart embarrassingly on her sleeve, but Ben was a little bit harder to read. He held his cards close to her chest, and Zoe wasn't brave enough to try and sneak a peek.

Zoe opened her mouth to inquire about their next stop, when Ben's phone began to ring. It rang a lot while they were eating, it rang while they were shopping, it rang and rang and rang. Ben said it was his agent trying to get him the best deal possible, because Paris St. Germain were very keen on buying him after his World Cup performance and well, who could blame them? It didn't seem like the deal was going very well, because each time he was on the phone, he sounded angrier and angrier. 

Sighing, Ben pulled his phone out of his back pocket, glanced at the caller ID, and sighed.

"This'll be just a second," he promised her, before turning his back and talking quietly into the phone. Shrugging to herself, Zoe's eye began to wander over her surroundings. They were in a quainter part of Paris, that seemed more... pure than the rest. The ice cream parlor, a mom and pop antique shop, a little boutique, and more. There was even a tiny karaoke bar at the end of the street that seemed nearly vacant. 

She found herself repelling from it. When she was younger, she loved singing. She stopped loving it when she found out she was very bad at it. 

She remembered when she stopped singing, because Mathieu told her, right in front of Ben, that she should stop singing because dogs had very sensitive hearing and if she sang enough, she'd kill their dog Cherry. She tried to prove a point by continuing singing, because even nine year old Zoe knew how ridiculous that was. But sure enough, Cherry died three days later. And it wasn't because of Zoe's singing, of course. Cherry was old. Very, very old. Their parents had gotten her before Mathieu was even born. But the whole situation was so traumatizing to Zoe that she tried to never, ever sing again.

"Hey," Ben said, walking up to Zoe. "Sorry about that."

"No problem." Zoe shrugged. "Let's go--"

"Is that a karaoke bar?"

Shit. "Where?"

"Right there." Ben pointed at the one Zoe had noticed a few moments prior. 

"Sorry, don't see it." Zoe adjusted her handbag on her shoulder and pivoted on the balls of her feet. "I saw this cool palm reading place this way."

"Are you still on what happened with Cherry?"

"Don't you dare." How did Ben even remember that? That was years ago, and he definitely didn't love Cherry like Zoe loved Cherry. Ben seemed to remember everything. Zoe should take note of that. Who knew what Ben knew?

"It wasn't your fault! She was old!" Ben had the nerve to find the situation amusing, and he couldn't wipe the bashful grin off of his stupid face.

Zoe rolled her eyes. "I'm not an idiot, Ben. I know it wasn't my terrible singing that killed her. I just don't like singing."

Ben crossed his arms over his chest, widening his stance. He tilted his head, and Zoe mirrored his actions, tilting her head as well. He tilted his head the other way, and she raised an eyebrow, tilted her head the opposite way with him. Many people passing by were giving them weird looks, and Zoe knew Ben was reveling in them. He loved attention, and Zoe, like many others, gave it to him.