It had been a long day. We had walked long meters all over Paris to that honeyed music anywhere. We ran through the paved streets with that old touch that only this city could have.
The decorations were nothing more than fine appraisals of what life is all about. The bars of the balconies were thin, the legs of the tables were, the old and elegant backs of the chairs in the open-air restaurants were, the irons that built the eiffel tower were even thin ... but those were only perspectives.
Everywhere there was a romantic scent. The touch of air between you and other people was the perfect clash of scents from different worlds in a non-forced encounter. And the way the French blurted out their language melts your ears. They had that very particular way of hissing with their lips making you tickle without even saying anything.
The streets adorned with beautiful flowering trees were even more harmonious at night when the lighthouse next to them illuminated them. In one part they were fully illuminated until they reached the part where the dim light hits them through some leaves.
This city made you shiver both from the height and on its floors. His music made your eyelids flare until they closed and left your body relaxed being moved by the wind. I know it doesn't make sense, but it doesn't have an explanation either.
At all times I felt the need to dance in the streets where no one saw me, and even when everyone did, I wanted to let yourself be carried away by the vibrations that gently moved your body to the beat of that Parisian jazz under the moonlight when it was darkest. be the street.
The most beautiful thing in this city? That no matter where you are, there was always a piece of her flaming around, smelling and sounding like poetry in French caressing your neck causing an incredible feeling of relaxation and peace.
When the night fell we moved a little away from the city with the smell of romantic history and we entered the streets where the moon slept and the stars walked without haste. It was a quiet and beautiful neighborhood a few kilometers from the Eiffel Tower. We stayed in an apartment on the sixth floor. The wonderful and historic old structure of the building gave it that Parisian touch that you have been waiting for when you get off the plane, that touch that even if you try, no place in this world can have ... except the same and beloved Paris.
Away from the big, bustling city we both laughed at a comment he made about how foolish people were to think ill of Paris, as we walked the cobbled streets under the bright light of the moon in its prime and a beacon that it was blinking so fast that it seemed to always be on.
โBelle demoiselleโ he said with that beautiful French accent marked perfectly as he released the words from his lips opening the door to the neighborhood. It was actually a neighborhood on the first floor, but the front of it had a few more floors than the rest of the homes in the neighborhood did not have, and that gave it the best virtue in the city.
When I saw this room online, I did not hesitate to rent it. I needed her more than ever in my wasted life.
โNever wait for someone that long until I see you, roseraieโ That last hiss meant rosedal, where we met. We both climbed the narrow stairs to my room and the older the structure I knew the more I enjoyed being here smelling that unique smell of humidity and fresh roses with morning bread.
I had brought my record player and yesterday I had bought a couple of vinyl records in the lower part of Paris. So do not hesitate a second and place "La vie en rose" sliding my body to where he was standing. In a blink and with that grasping sensation of his scent, I took him by the shoulders and let him put his hands on my waist as he fell into the culture of those eyes that took you to unbelievable places while you looked at them.
The accordion of the song made an impressive echo in the apartment and I turned off all the lights guiding me by the light of his eyes and that of the window of the twenties that left us a sweet view of the city of Paris with each and every one of their beauties.
โStand here โ he moved my body behind the sight and I saw him smile โNow you are part of the beautiful France โ he brushed his thumb on my cheek caressing it and I felt it like velvet, like the tail of a cat dancing on your chin, like a tingle of irresistible emotions. And when he propels my toes up I crash his sweet, hungry lips with mine.
Yes, now it was part of the fantastic France that made you shrink your stomach from all the emotions caused by just walking a very Parisian block.
It was not the city of love or lovers. It was the city of a thousand feelings and the glitters on the moon and the houses. It was the city of the marked language in the whole country.
It was the city of breakfasts and the drops on your face. But more than anything, it was the most unique and enveloping city on the planet.
โFait ร la franรงaise avec le poivre de la lune et la saveur de vos lรจvres โ I whispered in her ear.
My dear Parisโฆ I will always have a place for you in all my culture and passion.
With love: Your beloved runner of the hundreds of aromas that your territory can give me.
Only me, your only land outside the universe.
This little story is my own completely. I am sorry if there are errors, I want to tell you that I am open to any criticism. I hope you like it as it is something new. With all my love, Abby.
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