Maybe It's Been You All Along - Alex Turner

67

Wispy white curtains blew subtly in the soft autumnal breeze. The windows were cracked open, letting in the sweet scents of the bakery down below. The air was cool and crisp against her skin as Rosanna sat up from under a mound of duvet and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her hair was voluminous and tangled on her head, only barely succumbing to the power of brushing it down with her fingers. Her feet sunk into the cold wooden flooring of the apartment as she trudged into the petit kitchen and brewed herself a refreshing batch of coffee. She was going a week strong in Paris, living on her own in a tiny apartment she'd rented out solely for one aspect: a baby grand piano. It was painted white like the rest of the apartment, some of the paint was chipped but it gave a homily essence to it. She'd danced her fingers over the keys every day since arriving and had only found one tune she liked so far.

  As anticipated, staying in the company of no one but herself in a completely alien environment propelled her productivity. With nothing to distract her or disturb her, she had no other choice than to observe herself and the world around her and implement it into songwriting. On the other hand, it had been unimaginably lonely, even with video calling Alex every second night. She almost forgot the sound of her own voice throughout the day, with no one to talk to all she heard was her minimal French and her singsong voice every time she rehearsed what she'd written. There couldn't have been a better time to invite Alex's arrival.

She sat on the inside ledge against one of the large windows the apartment blessed her with and hugged her mug of coffee in between her cold hands. The warmth of the ceramic felt like tickling static against her skin, creeping into her fingertips and weeping into her palms. It was a peaceful, overcast Sunday morning and she could see all the orange trees dotting around the roads nearby. She spent the majority of her mornings taking in the serenity of observing the world from afar. The people walking in and out of the bakery below and children and adults alike making their way down the roads each with their own little stories.

  There were no words to describe the rush she felt running up to Alex at the airport. Seeing his face alone irked something in her heart. The pure relief of seeing him emerge from the plane gates and the burn in her heart as she hugged him tight and kissed him hard, almost knocking him off his feet. She felt like a child, hugging him like a koala and squeezing him tight as he held her up. He chuckled a hearty laugh and kissed her lips over and over. The people around them admired the two from afar, seeing young love in the flesh and feeling humbled by it.

  Rosanna helped Alex carry his bags up the flight of stairs to her apartment. The place already felt more comforting with Alex's presence. "There's a cat that comes by the window every now and then," Rosanna remarked as Alex settled his belongings in the bedroom. The bed was still unmade. Alex shrugged out of his coat and hung it up in the closet as Rosanna walked to the bedroom window and pushed it open. The cool breeze hit her cheeks immediately, turning them pink along with her nose in the afternoon light. She felt a smile dance onto her lips as Alex crept his arms around her, his chest pressing against her back.

"The sky goes pink and orange at sunset," Rosanna told him, both their eyes lingering on the picture behind the frame of the window panels.

"I missed you so much," Alex said in that soft, hoarse voice that he always had when he told her sweet nothings into her ear.

  "Don't go too soft on me," Rosanna teased and looked over her shoulder to kiss him.

  "What you didn't miss me?" Alex chuckled against her lips.

  "You know I did," Rosanna said and rolled her eyes, "you just wanna hear me say it."

  "You got me there," Alex smiled and pressed his lips to hers again. He still had that beard and it grazed against Rosanna's chin and upper lip whenever he kissed her.