Prologue
Parisian love can bloom high in a skylight room
Or in a gay café where hundreds of people can see
It only took a moment, one fraction of a second, for Edward Cullen to realize that he was, indeed, capable of infatuation.
He had been sitting in Le Dauphin, an unassuming little café at the heart of Paris, when she had entered and ordered a cup of black coffee. Before he caught her scent, before he became mystified by her evasive thoughts, he was immediately struck by her eyes. They weren't exceptionally beautiful, at least not conventionally, but they held an expressive naïveté that captured his interest. He wasn't sure how, but they managed to betray her stoicism while keeping every thought carefully locked away. She was a mysterious parcel just waiting to be unwrapped, and Edward was incredibly grateful that he was talented at doing just that.
Just as he began to reach out and seek her thoughts, the strange girl stumbled over her own two feet. Perhaps if the café had been built a little larger, her scent wouldn't have affected him so. She lost her balance and collided with a nearby table, thankfully clinging to one of the chairs until she could resume intelligent function of her legs. If she had come any closer, Edward knew without a doubt that he wouldn't have been able to stop himself.
Her scent was intoxicating. As it wafted his direction, it took all of his willpower to keep from bolting from his seat to test if she tasted the same, absolutely delicious. The coffee mug that was once cradled gingerly between his hands shattered into many porcelain shards, covering him and the table he sat at in tepid coffee. There was no way he could resist. No temptation had ever been as strong, and as she lifted her dark eyes to meet his, he knew that there never would be again. This dark-haired siren sang to the predator within his marble shell, and she was nothing like he had ever imagined her to be. She responded with a shallow hiccup instead of a formal apology and attempted to adjust the many chairs she had knocked over in her clumsy episode. Even when he forced himself not to breathe in, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.
She left moments later, flushed with embarrassment and mumbling several poorly pronounced French apologies. The café was nearly the same as before she had entered, and most of the patrons had already moved on from the amusing spectacle she had created. Only one man, still clutching the wooden table as if it were the only thing that could anchor him to reality, recalled every single detail.
It was only after she left that he realized he had never heard her thoughts at all.
I'll keep updating this! Next chapter will be up soon. R&R please! I'm totally a new writer.