the oscars- t.c

finale

Ella Lawrence was now twenty nine, living on the upper east side with her husband. Having kept her name for work purposes, Ella had become accustomed to her new life in New York. The view was enough to keep her there for a long as she needed.

They owned a house in London, where they spent most winters. It had become Ella's favourite time of year because they got her whole family round minus her mother plus all their friends and had a massive Christmas party. It had become a famous gathering among their friends that people looked forward to every year.

As she stood staring at her familiar view, able to see Central Park just down the road and her favourite bagel stop just across the street, Ella felt a pair of arms around her small body. Soon there were lips against her neck but they were friendly and not alarming.

"Salut mon chérie hello my love" she addressed the body.

"Salut mon papillon hello my butterfly." It replied.

It was around three in the afternoon and there were masses of people running around their apartment trying to get everything ready for the party they were throwing that night. Ella was not one to celebrate milestones but she thought five years of being married to Timothée was surely something to share with everyone.

"Are you excited for tonight?" He wondered, not letting go of her small frame. Ella hummed in agreement as the sun hit her lightly, making her skin glow and Timothée's eyes squinted.

"Maman, je suis faim mum I'm hungry." A small voice approached them. Ella turned around and tutted her mouth to the small creature.

"Non non non mon petit chou, c'est j'ai faim. No my dear it's I have hunger." Ella corrected her daughters grammar which Timothée found adorable but he found his daughter more adorable. He let go of Ella and picked up the small child.

"Très bien very good." He kissed her delicate cheek as he clung to his hip.

"J'ai faim maman. I'm hungry mum." The child repeated. Ella nodded.

"Well let's get some food then." Ella had been determined ever since her daughter was born three years ago to be a better mother than hers was to her and to teach her daughter immaculate French.

The small family entered the kitchen, Timothée placing the girl on the island top and tickling her to make her give her beautifully innocent smile.

"Ça va aujourd'hui, Fleur? How are you today, Fleur?" Timothée asked. Fleur was definitely a daddy's girl but Ella didn't mind because so was she.

"Très bien papa. Very good dad." She answered. Timothée applauded her for such a quick answer. "J'ai faim. I'm hungry." She repeated, earning a laugh from Timothée.

"I know I know." He pinched her cheeks and watched as Ella brought her over a bowl of apple and two cookies. Timothée placed Fleur in her high chair and slid over the food. Quickly, he grabbed Ella's waist and kissed her hard, making her giggle and wrap her arms around his neck.

"Excuse me, madame." One of the workers pulled them apart. "We're done." They told her.

"Perfect, thank you so much. You've done a great job." She nodded to them. Timothée buried his head in her neck and started to nuzzle her.

The workers had simply moved their furniture, put in place tables for food and polished everything so it looked perfect. Ella adored the space they lived in, she couldn't wait for Fleur to grow up and become a New Yorker.

The only problem was she would have an American accent which she hadn't considered when she got pregnant. Timothée has suggested having their next one in London and spending the first few years of its life there but Ella didn't want to mess up their life they had now just so she could have a british one.