Sharing a Lamp with A Red-Head

Two days have passed since Sarabella came to Paris. Her first day was terrible, to some extent, that she had miserably cocooned herself on her make-shift futon for the rest of the night whilst binge-eating on the ice cream that she picked up on the way to her apartment. The jetlag came later that evening, having the foreigner curl up to a pitiful ball on the floor.

Sarabella's father had arranged a place for her stay on the duration of her one-year program in culinary school, saying that she'd have to live on her own since she's already on her twenties. She was ecstatic by the thought of finally living on her own, much to the distaste of her mother.

However, this deemed to be more challenging than the girl would've thought. When she came to the apartment after the whole Eiffel Tower fiasco, Sarabella wanted to slam her face on the floor. The apartment her father found was not what she expected. Yes, the exterior architecture of the building was mediocre enough for her tastes but the interior of her unit was… something.

It was a small two-bedroom unit with a relatively normal-sized kitchen and a typical-looking living room. Thankfully, it was a fully furnished apartment with what seems to be a new refrigerator and stove-top with an oven. A ginormous 42" flat-screen television hung on the wall of the living room. The sofas and ottomans were real leather and the coffee table was elegant in design. One of the bedrooms has a double sized bed with a moldy-looking bed sheet, much to her distaste.

The wallpapers, however, were too dull and pale for her liking. So much for the amazing furniture, these wallpapers suck, she thought gloomily. The foreigner sighed deeply at the thought of replacing the tacky ancient wallpapers that came with the place, buying a bit more décor to liven the place up and unpacking boxes and boxes of her things.

Sarabella let out an exasperated sigh, once again, when she saw what was inside the boxes - from her clothes to kitchenware to bath necessities to house decor… It was as if she'd be staying in France for good.

Having no choice but to finish up before the third day of her stay, it took her approximately eight hours to fix things up and decorate the place to her liking. The once ancient-looking apartment was turned into a neat-freak's dream interior design. Even if the place still needs more furniture, Sarabella quite liked the interior that she went for, heavily basing upon fēng shuǐ.

She contacted her family back in her home country, the Philippines, through social media and told them the good news of having her apartment fixed up by herself. She left out the embarrassing detail about meeting a certain Parisian and his friend. Her older sisters kept teasing her about failing horribly while trying to flirt with the handsome locals. The girl shrugged the topic off and telling them that she'd rather focus on studying than distracting herself on idiotic matters.

On her third day in Paris, she went for grocery shopping to stock up on her food and baking supplies. Her first day of work will start by tomorrow morning so Sarabella noted that she still have to iron her formal wear since she haven't come across a laundry shop as of her grocery shopping. Another one of the things on her to-do list was to buy creative house décor.

After her quick grocery shopping, she went back home and arranged her ingredients to where it should be on her apartment. Baking supplies in the cupboards, raw meat and fish on the freezer, dairy products on the chiller… It was already late morning when she finished so Sarabella decided to eat somewhere outside and then start her décor hunting before she get too pre-occupied with her work and school.

Sarabella slipped in a simple jade pendant around her neck, whispering to herself, "Here's to hoping that I don't bump into handsome boy again." Sighing deeply, she exited her apartment and back into the streets of Paris. The foreigner made her way to the nearest shopping center, filled with paranoia that he'll bump into her by accident once again.

"Zhù nǐ chū rù píng ān." She sarcastically told herself as the stepped down the taxi. It cost her quite a few euros but she didn't cared much. Her parents had given her quite a huge amount of money to spare. While walking inside the huge building of IKEA, on Boulevard Jean Monnet, she cautiously looked around for the blond Parisian she saw from her first day. (T: May you have peace wherever you go.)

Sarabella breathed a sigh of relief when she entered, seeing that the IKEA in Paris was a lot bigger than the one back at her home country. There's no way handsome boy will cross paths with her ever again. Wow, I'm such a paranoid. Considering that Paris is such a big city, I shouldn't have been too cautious with meeting him again, she thought. The ravenette smiled at herself and proceeded to take a cart.

She planned on buying a several ornamental vases, clean bed sheets, soft pillows, some clocks, a desk lamp and a few paintings to hide the hideous wallpapers – for now. Seeing the map of IKEA on the walls, she trudged on the assigned pathways and let her eyes wander around the beautiful furniture surrounding her. "Damn, my sisters are gonna go crazy here." The young architect whispered to herself, remembering that all three of her older sisters are frustrated interior decorators.

The foreigner carried on her mission to buy the things she deemed necessary. By the second hour of her walking around the huge store, almost everything she need was on her cart already. The only thing missing is a lamp for her drafting table. Her father had her beloved drafting table shipped from the Philippines a few days prior to her arrival, only to forget to also put in her lamp so she have to buy a new one for it will be necessary when she starts work tomorrow.

A few minutes more, Sarabella found an amazing-looking lamp. The gooseneck seemed flexible enough to be able to move the head of the lamp depending upon her whims. The design was nearly the same as the one she had back at home. Sarabella reached for the lamp eagerly when a hand also reached for it with almost at the same eagerness. She instinctively jerked her back to herself, heart pounding for she expected for the worst case scenario – meeting handsome boy once again. The young woman whipped her head at the direction of the stranger and the stranger stared back at her, eyes wide from surprise.

"Oh, sorry." The stranger said to her -in French- bashfully, smiling awkwardly then scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. The ravenette took in the appearance of the Parisian, he has radiant red-orange hair that has side-swept bangs that go just above his left eye. The boy has turquoise eyes and a pale face. He towered over her easily with his height but that didn't stop him from being a gentleman towards the foreigner as he continued, "Do you want to look at the lamp closer? You can check it out first."

"No!" Sarabella exclaimed shrilly, flustered at the sudden offer. "I mean, you can look at it first. I don't mind." She told the red-head, smiling at him with the same awkward smile he gave her earlier. Besides, it will be uncomfortable if I go first, knowing that you'll wait for me to finish and stare at me while I judge the design of the lamp – is what she didn't say to him.

"If you want, we can look at it together?" He suggested meekly.

Sarabella nodded and diverted her attention towards the lamp. However, focusing of the lamp did not help the atmosphere at all. She could feel his gaze pierce the core of her head, giving her a sudden pang of insecurity. Her head started rambling mindless things while she gazed at the lamp with hollow eyes. I know I'm not pretty but you don't have to judge me in your eyes. Oh my goodness, is he really looking at me or am I imagining things? He isn't handsome boy so what do I care? I mean, Paris is a really huge city and we probably won't meet again or something… Yeah we won't meet again-

The architect dared to slowly look back at the Parisian, only to have her suspicions answered. He is staring at her. She had unexpected eye contact with him; they both reacted quickly by returning their respective gazes back at the object infront of them.

The ravenette heard him fake a cough then proceeded to say, "Y-You're not from around here, are you?"

She got a hint from his tone that he wanted to remove the awkward atmosphere and actually create a small talk. There was also a nagging feeling at the back of her head that she probably stood out too much, having Parisians everywhere to ask her if she's not from around there. Sarabella nodded slowly, "I just came here two days ago." She answered briefly, her head exploding because she knew she screwed up. He wouldn't know what to follow-up on her response, thus it will probably make their current situation more uncomfortable.

"Ah." He nodded. There was silence and Sarabella wanted to slap herself. I knew it- "So, are you a foreign exchange student?" The red-headed Parisian asked gently.

"Huh?"

"I mean…" He faltered, losing confidence to speak to her upon realizing that he tried to pry on her own business. "You need a desk lamp that specializes for drawing. You're studying here, right?"

"Oh." So, that's what he meant. "Yes, I'm studying in university here. In Ecoles de Condé." Sarabella added wistfully. That university wasn't her top choice but it was the only one that accepted her as an irregular student. Not many had been pleased with her request but this one had acknowledged her need to become an irregular. Beggars can't be choosers, dad would say, Sarabella thought.

There was a smile on the Parisian's face when she mentioned her university. "I'm going there, too." Oh great. Sarabella inwardly cringed at the statement of the stranger. Too much for not seeing him again. "What program are you in? Illustration? Film animation?" He asked with delight, his earlier bashfulness gone.

"I'm in culinary arts but I'll be needing a lamp for drafting." The young woman replied with a nonchalant voice, unfocused for the fact that she's already planning on how to avoid him on the university for the whole duration of her stay. The French stared at her quizzically, searching answers to her seemingly questionable answer. Sarabella caught on to his questioning look so she decided to continue, "I'm an architect but I'll be studying at the same time, too."

The red-head nodded in understanding, whispering to her with slight envy lacing his tone, "That's so cool…"

"T-Thank you." She stuttered, not comfortable with sudden compliments from strangers. She gazed at him once again, memorizing the details of his face. Maybe it won't hurt to befriend him? Sarabella unconsciously said to herself. Damn, why do I get to meet handsome Parisians on the worst possible scenarios?!

The stranger smiled at her and offered a hand, "I'm Nathanaël. It's a pleasure meeting you."

"I'm Sarabella." She told him, weirded out by the fact that he offered a hand – she heard that Parisians would rather offer a beso* than a handshake. The girl took it, nonetheless, and shook his hand in a formal way. "Sarabella Morin. Nice meeting you."

"So," Nathanaël let go of Sarabella's hand and smiled at her with a hint of humor sparkling from his eyes, "I guess we'll be sharing a lamp?"

Author's Note:

*Beso– the Filipino culture's equivalent of a faire la bise. To those who don't know (and wouldn't be bothered to Google this hahaha), faire la bise is common in France, usually among friends and family – sometimes to strangers, too.

Doing a faire la bise is simple. Just lean forward, touch the cheeks of the other person (with your own cheeks) and kiss the air near the other person's ear (making a light kissing sound with your lips and not with your voice).

Faire la bise, or beso, is commonly done in the Philippines, too. It is frequently done with family members, relatives and friends. Giving a beso to strangers, however, is not common and is found to be weird. However, this mostly applies to the women. Men who give a beso are often given to their mothers, aunts, grandmothers or to any women friends (the latter are not so common, though). Men giving a beso to the same sex are sometimes frowned upon – probably implying that the guy might be gay. Gays, on the other hand, do give beso to their girl friends and gay friends – depending on how open and frivolous they are about their gender.

[I've done my research too much about French culture, hahaha. Do tell me in the review if I have made a mistake in the given facts here. I am not from France nor have I ever visited so… yeah. Writing this is a bit hard, considering that I have to look up blogs and the Wiki for references.]

Forgive my nearly two weeks of hiatus, too. And thank you to those who followed, reviewed and favorite! I'm happy that you guys are enjoying this~!