This Kiss...
Alternate Universe
Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor moon or associated characters.
Dedication: To my friend, "Ami", who taught me to understand, if not prefer.
Chapter 3---The Dinner
Darien kissed me goodbye in front of my hotel and told me that he would pick me up at seven o'clock tonight.
No, not a real kiss, silly. They were cheek kisses, a very charming european custom and a great way to establish new "friendships". He didn't invite himself up and he didn't try anything else. I think he already missed his deadline to find someone to make out with for the day (wink).
Sigh...I think I'm in love or at least in like, probably just somewhere in between the two. He's everything I've ever asked for: charming, handsome, six-packed (hehe), intelligent, humble, and he sparks with me. Have you ever had the feeling that something was just so perfect, it had to be a dream. You know, the first bite of that perfect chocolate chip cookie warm from the oven or that magical moment before prom when you looked at yourself and thought that you were a princess. Well, this beats all of my "perfect" moments.
I decide to shower and then nap for a bit in my hotel room, since I have two hours until Darien comes for me.
After my catnap, it is now six o'clock and I realize I have a dilemma. What should I wear? Something dressy? Something casual? Tough decisions...
I finally decide on a light pink dress that I purchased from Paris. It has spaghetti strapes and a drape bodice. The dress is not very tight, but it clings (wink). I put my hair up into two buns and allowed the rest to flow freely. I know it's a strange hairdo, but it gets my hair out of the way when I'm dancing.
knock. knock. I look at my watch. Oh wow, it's already seven o'clock and he's right on time. Of course he would be, he's perfect. (mental shrug) I compose myself and make sure that any urge to giggle like a fourteen year old was safely suppressed before opening the door.
He's wearing a white shirt with black jeans. His black hair is messily styled with gel and along with his ever ready smile and twinkling eyes, I am ready to swoon. Then he hands me a vibrant pink rose along with two soft kisses on my cheeks.
"My mother used to say that roses are very special flowers. Red is for passion. Pink is for romance. Yellow is for friendship. I want all of that with you...but this rose remainded me of you." His fingers lightly trace the petals of my rose, "Anyway, I hope you like it", he finishes with a blush.
I stand there for a while, looking at my rose, it's beautiful. It's a perfect pink, so rich and alive, I think it was sparkling. Finally, I reply with, "Thank you, I love it".
"You look wonderful, the rose matches you well", he says.
"Thank you, you look great too, " I reply.
"Well, shall we go to dinner? There's a restaurant in the old market that serves great creme brulee.", he says.
"I love creme brulee. Ever since I watched Amelie, it's been one of my favorite desserts. How did you know? ", I asks.
"I don't know. A lucky guess?", he shrugs charmingly and grabs my hand. "Let's go!"
"Okay! We're going!", I say laughingly.
The old market is a wonderful place in Nice, full of activity and color, it's the center of town. Darien takes me to a little restaurant that I've never noticed before. It's called, La Vie En Rose (life in pink).
"What a great name for a restaurant! I love it!", I exclaim and I did love it. Everything about the restaurant is promised in its name. The restaurant itself is quite small, but you feel so warm and welcome when you enter it. The walls are covered with soft impressionist paintings and painted a soft, delicate pink, every table is lit by candle light and everyone in the restaurant is smiling.
"I thought you might like it. A lot of tourists miss it but it's really one of the best restaurants in Nice", Darien says quietly as he leads me to my seat.
We order together and it is a comical affair. Between my American French and his Italian French, we manage to get some food. I order chicken and he orders shrimps. The waiter is being very patient with us during this process, I think Darien's Italian French helps more than my American French.
The food arrives shortly and it smells and looks wonderful. Darien teasingly spares a piece of chicken and holds his fork up to me, his eyes are shining challengingly. Since I've never turned down food before, I open my mouth and move towards his fork. Hmmm, that's good chicken, the best I've had. Then in retaliation, I feed him his first bite of fish. The meal continues in this gentle teasing tone. He tells me about his friends and the pranks they pulled together. I tell him about Mina, Lita, Raye, and Ami and all the things we've done together. We laugh over Mina's "helpless cheerleader" act that so many males fallen victim too. I want to cry when he tells me about his parents dying when he was six years old, but I don't. I simply hold his hand and hope that he understands my silence. I think he does.
It's finally time for my favorite part of the meal, dessert. We decid to share a creme brulee. Being the French student, I got to order. "Nous voudrions une creme brulee?" ( we would like a creme brulee), I said. However, all of you french students will understand, the 'r' in French is so difficult to pronounce and look at how many 'r's are in that sentence.
The waiter hears we would like another chicken. "Un autre poulet? D'accord", (another chicken, okay), he says.
"Non, non, creme brulee!", I try to correct him.
"Autre poulet? Oui?", questions the waiter.
Darien steps in finally, he's been laughing hysterically this whole time by the way, not helpful! I guess no one is perfect.
"Monsieur, une creme brulee s'il vous plait", Darien says.
"Ah! Une creme brulee", the waiter exclaims.
I want to kick them both. That's what I've been saying. When the waiter left, I just glare at Darien. He smiles innocently and whisphers, "It's okay, I can't pronounce the 'th' sound in English. So mass and math are the same in my version of English", he winks and squeezes my hand.
How can you resist that! I decide that kicking him after that statement was out of the question. The creme brulee arrives with two little spoons. We both cracke the top with our spoons and dig in. It has a heavenly taste, warm and rich. It's the perfect combination of crust and cream. Mmmmm...
We sit there, enjoying the restaurant, the dessert, and each other for another hour and finally we are both ready to go. He pays for the meal and all of a sudden, he whirls me out of my seat. He spins me around in his arms and dips me. Then he leans down and whisphered, "Ready to dance?"
"Yes", is all I can manage.
Alternate Universe
Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor moon or associated characters.
Dedication: To my friend, "Ami", who taught me to understand, if not prefer.
Chapter 3---The Dinner
Darien kissed me goodbye in front of my hotel and told me that he would pick me up at seven o'clock tonight.
No, not a real kiss, silly. They were cheek kisses, a very charming european custom and a great way to establish new "friendships". He didn't invite himself up and he didn't try anything else. I think he already missed his deadline to find someone to make out with for the day (wink).
Sigh...I think I'm in love or at least in like, probably just somewhere in between the two. He's everything I've ever asked for: charming, handsome, six-packed (hehe), intelligent, humble, and he sparks with me. Have you ever had the feeling that something was just so perfect, it had to be a dream. You know, the first bite of that perfect chocolate chip cookie warm from the oven or that magical moment before prom when you looked at yourself and thought that you were a princess. Well, this beats all of my "perfect" moments.
I decide to shower and then nap for a bit in my hotel room, since I have two hours until Darien comes for me.
After my catnap, it is now six o'clock and I realize I have a dilemma. What should I wear? Something dressy? Something casual? Tough decisions...
I finally decide on a light pink dress that I purchased from Paris. It has spaghetti strapes and a drape bodice. The dress is not very tight, but it clings (wink). I put my hair up into two buns and allowed the rest to flow freely. I know it's a strange hairdo, but it gets my hair out of the way when I'm dancing.
knock. knock. I look at my watch. Oh wow, it's already seven o'clock and he's right on time. Of course he would be, he's perfect. (mental shrug) I compose myself and make sure that any urge to giggle like a fourteen year old was safely suppressed before opening the door.
He's wearing a white shirt with black jeans. His black hair is messily styled with gel and along with his ever ready smile and twinkling eyes, I am ready to swoon. Then he hands me a vibrant pink rose along with two soft kisses on my cheeks.
"My mother used to say that roses are very special flowers. Red is for passion. Pink is for romance. Yellow is for friendship. I want all of that with you...but this rose remainded me of you." His fingers lightly trace the petals of my rose, "Anyway, I hope you like it", he finishes with a blush.
I stand there for a while, looking at my rose, it's beautiful. It's a perfect pink, so rich and alive, I think it was sparkling. Finally, I reply with, "Thank you, I love it".
"You look wonderful, the rose matches you well", he says.
"Thank you, you look great too, " I reply.
"Well, shall we go to dinner? There's a restaurant in the old market that serves great creme brulee.", he says.
"I love creme brulee. Ever since I watched Amelie, it's been one of my favorite desserts. How did you know? ", I asks.
"I don't know. A lucky guess?", he shrugs charmingly and grabs my hand. "Let's go!"
"Okay! We're going!", I say laughingly.
The old market is a wonderful place in Nice, full of activity and color, it's the center of town. Darien takes me to a little restaurant that I've never noticed before. It's called, La Vie En Rose (life in pink).
"What a great name for a restaurant! I love it!", I exclaim and I did love it. Everything about the restaurant is promised in its name. The restaurant itself is quite small, but you feel so warm and welcome when you enter it. The walls are covered with soft impressionist paintings and painted a soft, delicate pink, every table is lit by candle light and everyone in the restaurant is smiling.
"I thought you might like it. A lot of tourists miss it but it's really one of the best restaurants in Nice", Darien says quietly as he leads me to my seat.
We order together and it is a comical affair. Between my American French and his Italian French, we manage to get some food. I order chicken and he orders shrimps. The waiter is being very patient with us during this process, I think Darien's Italian French helps more than my American French.
The food arrives shortly and it smells and looks wonderful. Darien teasingly spares a piece of chicken and holds his fork up to me, his eyes are shining challengingly. Since I've never turned down food before, I open my mouth and move towards his fork. Hmmm, that's good chicken, the best I've had. Then in retaliation, I feed him his first bite of fish. The meal continues in this gentle teasing tone. He tells me about his friends and the pranks they pulled together. I tell him about Mina, Lita, Raye, and Ami and all the things we've done together. We laugh over Mina's "helpless cheerleader" act that so many males fallen victim too. I want to cry when he tells me about his parents dying when he was six years old, but I don't. I simply hold his hand and hope that he understands my silence. I think he does.
It's finally time for my favorite part of the meal, dessert. We decid to share a creme brulee. Being the French student, I got to order. "Nous voudrions une creme brulee?" ( we would like a creme brulee), I said. However, all of you french students will understand, the 'r' in French is so difficult to pronounce and look at how many 'r's are in that sentence.
The waiter hears we would like another chicken. "Un autre poulet? D'accord", (another chicken, okay), he says.
"Non, non, creme brulee!", I try to correct him.
"Autre poulet? Oui?", questions the waiter.
Darien steps in finally, he's been laughing hysterically this whole time by the way, not helpful! I guess no one is perfect.
"Monsieur, une creme brulee s'il vous plait", Darien says.
"Ah! Une creme brulee", the waiter exclaims.
I want to kick them both. That's what I've been saying. When the waiter left, I just glare at Darien. He smiles innocently and whisphers, "It's okay, I can't pronounce the 'th' sound in English. So mass and math are the same in my version of English", he winks and squeezes my hand.
How can you resist that! I decide that kicking him after that statement was out of the question. The creme brulee arrives with two little spoons. We both cracke the top with our spoons and dig in. It has a heavenly taste, warm and rich. It's the perfect combination of crust and cream. Mmmmm...
We sit there, enjoying the restaurant, the dessert, and each other for another hour and finally we are both ready to go. He pays for the meal and all of a sudden, he whirls me out of my seat. He spins me around in his arms and dips me. Then he leans down and whisphered, "Ready to dance?"
"Yes", is all I can manage.