Letters to Audrine

12- Musee Marc Chagall

On Tuesday, I know Silas doesn't have work because the restaurant is closed. I spent most of the week on my own, exploring the town and sunbathing at the pool, only talking with Silas through text as he worked.

And today, it's my chance to see him. I'm not sure what we would do, or maybe we could just do nothing. I write out the text to invite him to come over at least five times, but I delete it all every time because I think it sounds too desperate.

I'm typing out my sixth attempt to Silas as a message pops up from him.

"Do you know who Marc Chagall is?" the message reads.

Already, I feel like I know where this is going. I do know who Marc Chagall is, and I also know that there is a museum dedicated to him in Nice, so my first assumption is that he's about to invite me to go to that museum with him today.

I don't want him to beat me to it, because I'd spent the past ten minutes trying to make my move and I was really proud of myself for getting myself to do it.

So before he can actually invite me anywhere, I message him back. "Yeah, I know who he is. Do you want to go to the museum today?"

"That's what I was going to ask you lol," he responds to me pretty quickly, and it's quickly followed by another. "When are you free?"

I've spent the past half an hour roaming around my hotel room after my shower, naked in only a white hotel bath towel, so all I have to do is get dressed. I tell him that I'll be ready in fifteen minutes.

It doesn't take me very long to get dressed, because I had been anticipating this day since the last time that I saw Silas. Even though I didn't know what we were going to do, the outfit that I'd picked out yesterday is pretty fitting for a museum trip. A light blue halter top and a flowing, floral skirt with matching blue colors and pinks. With a pair of comfortable white slip-on shoes, I also grab my sunglasses and decide to put on a gold bracelet. I'd actually bought it at a jewelry store in town to take home as a souvenir for my mom, but it's so cute and I think it goes well with the outfit that I decide I'll keep it for myself and get her something else.

I'm embarrassed at how long it takes me to get the bracelet latched around my wrist, and I don't have any time to put on any makeup. I just spray on some body spray in an attempt to smell like ocean mist, and I head out the door.

"You look beautiful," Silas tells me when we meet up at his small red car. He's wearing a white button up shirt and jean shorts that cut off right below his hairy knees.

I don't think I'll ever get over the fuzzy feeling that I get when he compliments me. "Thank you," I smile. "You're not looking so bad yourself."

Before we get into the car, he quickly leans toward me and kisses my lips. The kiss is so quick that I have no time to respond before it's over, and then he's opening the passenger side door for me. What a gentleman.

"So, does this count as a date?" I ask him boldly once we're both in the car and Silas starts driving toward Nice. I want to add to that statement that it's okay if this isn't a date, no pressure or anything, but I stop myself. I don't want to sound so insecure-- even if I am.

"Yeah, I'd say so," he agrees with me, nodding and then glancing over at me. "Is that good?"

"Yes," I confirm, probably way too quickly. I clear my throat and then rephrase it, "I mean, that does sound good to me, yes."

He laughs. "Good."

"Have you been to this museum before?" I change the subject.

"No, but I've heard good things," Silas tells me. "And there's a good restaurant nearby that we can go to afterward. Unless you're hungry now?"