Disclaimer: Reign is not mine.
AN-So I haven't written anything for a while. This should hopefully help me get back in the game! Thank you for reading and please review.
decaf kings and queens
Ȃme Souer was a quaint café located down a narrow Parisian side-street, far away from the high-street establishments that were always crammed full of tourists who flocked to them like caffeine addicted pigeons. Mary frequented the café, favouring it over the endless amount of others due to its relative obscurity and the quiet atmosphere it allowed. Ȃme Souer relied solely on the patronage of a handful of hipsters and local students that had stumbled upon it by chance, most likely after getting lost in the sprawling city.
Mary was still getting used to Paris. It had been such a drastic change from the rainy streets of Glasgow and London, two cities she'd been pulled to and from constantly as a child. The café remained a constant though, which she was thankful for. Discovering it on the day of her arrival was something she'd never regret.
The waiter, Leith, set down a plate full of ham and cheese sandwiches with a mug of hot chocolate by its side, marshmallows bobbing pleasantly on the surface. She smiled gratefully at him and went back to her report for the journalism class she took at AUP*, waiting for her order to cool down. Though it was only her minor, she greatly preferred journalism to her history major. History was all about human indecencies and betrayals whilst journalism allowed her to seek out stories highlighting human agency. Mary had a love affair with the truth and genuine kindness and she planned to uncover as much of that in Paris as possible.
She had been typing her report for a good half hour when the door eased open and in slipped a young man, breathless from the cold winter winds. The café was mostly empty, silences reigning with only the slightest dissent from a sickeningly sweet teen couple that couldn't seem to go more than five minutes without Eskimo kissing*.
The man pulled off his grey beanie, revealing the prettiest hair Mary had ever seen. She frowned at her own brown locks before shrugging. She didn't really care that he had nice hair. It didn't mean he was a nice person.
He sat down at the table adjacent to hers, right in the corner. He turned and grinned at her before getting his laptop out of his bag and elegantly sliding it onto the table. It was thin, a new model and he seemed to be flaunting that fact. Mary raised a brow. She wasn't impressed by his show of wealth... there was something about him though.
She didn't quite know what she found so fascinating about the man. Sure he was attractive, but so was the guy who worked the tills and she felt no desire to run up to him and give him a hug or even a kiss! He just seemed so familiar that it made her head hurt and her heart burn
She watched as he placed an order for a raspberry sprinkled crepe and yes, it was bordering on creepy now but she didn't really care. Mary would have her answers.
The man shot her an odd look, likely disturbed by her unwavering stare. She took a deep breath and stretched her arm until it was in between their table borders.
"Bonjour!," she spoke. "Je m'appelle, Mary. Comment t'appelles-tu?"
He hesitantly grasped her hand in his, giving it a brief shake before answering.
"Francis. Enchanté, I'm sure. But your accent is terrible and my English is fluent. So there is no need for the continued butchering of my language."
And with that he dropped her hand and went back to his laptop, leaving Mary affronted and confused, left to ponder what she'd seen in him even with the sense of familiarity that crashed over her with every glance.
* AUP - American University of Paris. An English speaking institute.
* Eskimo kisses. Not sure if these are a global thing. It's the rubbing together of noses. It's uber cute.
Please review. I do plan on seeing this fic to the end and any advice, questions and constructive criticism is very welcome. Have a good day!