forgranted-ff - Tumblr blog

forgranted-ff · 11 years ago

Text

Blind Date

"Any bats in the cave?"

Amelia let out a squealing laugh as Laurent stretched his nostril before her, invading her personal space as she lay sprawled on the couch. Grabbing a fist full of his plush brown curls, she pushed his head aside as he stumbled backward, chuckling mischievously.

"Stop being gross," she snorted disapprovingly as he inspected himself in the mirror hanging on the living room wall. Laurent twisted to peer at her, his eyes squinted.

"So you’d really send me off on this date with shit in my nose? What a friend," He scoffed, his voice drenched in sarcasm.

"Exactly--then she’ll know how much of a pig you are," Amelia smiled, gesturing towards the state of the living room; various pairs of Jordan sneakers littered the carpeted floor, read and unread mail piled over the coffee table, and sweat drenched tanks, shirts, and crew necks hung on the back of the couch.

"Wow," Laurent mouthed, flipping her off. The smile pulling at his lips told her he knew she was absolutely right. Living with him three years was enough to let her know that disorganization was just the way he operated best. “I’ve gotten better, okay?” He defended himself, trying to save face.

That wasn’t a complete lie; he had gotten better believe it or not. Amelia thought back to the earlier days—when she’d first moved in with him. He was the perfect roommate in all aspects except cleanliness. Just one month with him had her ready to cut her lease with him short, but being a college student living off a minimum wage salary-- it was something she had to deal with. Now, three years later, she was glad she hadn’t left. Laurent had turned out to be an amazing roommate. He’d made her feel at home immediately and made the male:female aspect of their living situation as nonchalant as possible. Getting to know him, Amelia had soon learned his messiness stemmed from his lack of time. He spent a large amount of it with his twin brother, Larry, running a dance studio. And so an agreement was drawn—Amelia handled cleaning only if Laurent took over groceries and dinner duty.

Besides being a great roommate, Laurent had slowly but surely worked his way into becoming one her closest friends. Although he could be as immature as she was, which many times spelled a recipe for disaster, he was a great listener and offered wise insight whenever he could. And in return, even if they did get on each other’s nerves, which wasn’t a rarity, Amelia was always there to soothe away the stresses of owning a business with a sibling, distracting him with laughs and giggles. When one wasn’t engulfed by her studies or the other with his dance duties, the two were always caught together. Any and every activity together created new memories for them-- even things as simple as falling asleep together on the couch, watching Spirited Away for the millionth time. Their vibrancy and spirit heightened in the presence of the other easily. They were alike and different all the same and it was the perfect mixture.

The perfect match.

“Sure,” she quipped with a smile, throwing a pillow from the couch at him He deflected it with his arm, laughing as he adjusted his jacket.

Sitting up, Amelia rested her elbow on the arm of the sofa, letting her cheek spill into her palm as she watched him fuss over his attire for the night. He was dressed handsomely in a white thermal, covered in a black jacket. His neck was adorned by his usual black buff, a little twin ritual she noticed he shared with his brother and never questioned, the same way she never questioned his need to wear his trousers backwards…like how he was wearing his black Levi’s right now. His fingers shined with their usual “homemade knuckle brass” as Amelia liked to call his various rings. His hair was a full and thriving halo around his head, much better than the breakage ridden mess she’d met when she’d first moved in. She assessed every part of him unknowingly; appreciating every little detail before her eyes locked on the curious little beads he called eyes.

"You look good," she affirmed finally, a smile on her lips.

Turning to face the mirror, Laurent stifled the grin on his face, his response soft spoken. He fought the tingling feeling running over his skin.

"Thanks."

The pocketed moment was neither thick nor thin but just right. It consisted of just the two of them and all the buzzing sentences that always remained unspoken. The trance was broken by the ringing of Laurent’s phone, of which Amelia was happy, quickly distracting herself by her own phone. She tried her hardest to seem uninterested as his muffled conversation floated in her ears.

…."You’re outside?"…."Yeah I’m done, I’m on my way down."….

Turning to face a seemingly indifferent Amelia, Laurent cleared his throat.

"That was Louis and Bryan," he gestured toward his phone before pocketing it. “I’m out.”

Grabbing his keys, he brushed past the couch, ready to go. Awkwardness washed over Amelia as she decided whether or not to walk him to the door. The whisper of her socks on the hard wood floors of the front foyer alerted Laurent as he passed over the threshold, facing her. The dim hall light made her shimmer with shadows as his eyes met hers in suspicion.

"Okay, no drinking, no cussing, no smoking and if your mystery lady/blind date tries to touch you in your no-no areas, you pepper spray her and run," Amelia said matter a factly, leaning on the door frame with crossed arms. Laurent let out a silent chuckle, nodding his head obediently as she stared up at him amusedly.

"Yes ma’am."

"I’ll catch you lat--"/ "Good night Mia—“

Both laughed as their sentences collided, Amelia watching the way little crow’s feet appeared near his eyes and Laurent watching the way her upper lip curled in pleasure. It died down to a thoughtful silence once again, both lost in thoughts they’d much rather not tell the other about. Looking down at his shoes, Laurent locked onto her eyes, allowing her to speak first this time around. Small under his gaze, Amelia cleared her throat shoving his arm gently, giving him the green light to go.

"Have fun," she called into the hall as his form disappeared.

Closing the door, Amelia leaned upon it, letting her body sag. She pulled the draw strings of her hoodie until her face was completely engulfed in the teal cotton, letting out an audible sigh.

She eventually peeled herself from the door as her phone sounded off.

"Can it take you any longer to climb down some stairs?" Bryan called out from the driver’s seat, his arm hanging out of the window as Laurent crossed the street to meet them, fog escaping his lips, his hands dug deep into his pockets. He offered an indifferent smile as he climbed into the back of the black range rover.

"When I tell you she’s bad? Man, she is bad," Louis whistled from the passenger seat, continuing the conversation that’d been ongoing before.

Laurent partially listened, peering out of the car window just as they pulled off. The lights in Mia’s bedroom were bright against the night sky, her silhouette moseying around clear as day. He always told her she should buy curtains but she had a habit of not listening to advice until she learned the lesson herself. He shook his head with a smile.

"Aye, are you even paying attention?"

Laurent was brought back down to earth as Louis slapped a hand on his knee, his hazel eyes shifting under the shadows of the street lights. "I said you’re going to like her," he repeated himself, Bryan agreeing with a nod of his head as he turned the wheel.

"Let’s hope I do," Laurent shrugged, shoving thoughts of Amelia back into the catacombs if his mind where they belonged.

"So is this classy or?"

Amelia spoke tentatively into her phone, pacing her bedroom, clothes already randomly strewn onto her bed. She landed into her pillows with a huff, listening as her friends Liza and Norelle shouted different things into her ear.

"Just dress like yourself," Liza offered.

"But make sure it looks good!" Norelle ended right behind her.

Shortly after Laurent embarked on his evening, her girls had called her up wondering if she was up to anything that night. Amelia didn’t fancy spending the night alone in the apartment and Laurent wouldn’t be back till late, or maybe not at all…

"Hello? Mia?!"

Amelia snapped back into reality, rising to thumb through her wardrobe once more.

"We’re gonna be there in 20 minutes, you better be ready!" Liz warned.

"And look good!" Norelle added.

Amelia squinted at her phone. She could not understand why they sounded so suspicious if all that was planned for the night was a little girl’s night out at the bar to keep her occupied.

"Please don’t tell me ya’ll are hinting at what I think you’re hinting at?" Amelia hissed.

"And what’s that?" Norelle wondered, an obvious smile in her voice.

"Try to set me up with someone tonight and I will run up his tab at the bar and tell him I’m a lesbian by the end of the night, try me," Amelia threatened with a laugh, slipping out of her clothes for a quick shower.

Norelle burst into laughs as Liza regained her phone.

"Just be ready," she quipped before the line went dead.

Laurent checked his wrist watch for the 3rd time that night, nodding his head to the music absentmindedly. They’d arrived at this club 30 minutes ago and his date was a no show as far as he was concerned. While he was having fun with his buddies and enjoying the fairly new place that he’d been meaning to check out with Larry anyways-- he definitely didn’t mind declaring the night a fail and making his way back home. He swirled a virgin drink in his hand, laughing boisterously with Louis and Bryan from time to time—whenever his mind allowed him to tune in.

"Can we buy you something?"

The trio turned around from their hunched positions against the bar counter top to find two pairs of flirty eyes gazing at them. The ladies giggled, their cheeks flushed pink under the flittering lights and it was obvious they were a little more than buzzed.

Clearing his throat with a smirk, Louis leaned forward. “Well I’d like a…,”

"Not you," the more brazen of the two smiled shamelessly. "Him," she pointed a manicured finger at Laurent. Bryan and Laurent struggled to hold their laughs at Louis’s rejection. Catching his breath, Laurent smiled shaking his head.

"I’m sorry baby, I don’t drink," he admitted.

"You’re no fun," she pouted. "C’mon girl," her friend tugged her along.

"Man, you’re a curse," Louis pointed a finger at Laurent with a laugh.

"It’s not my fault, ya’ll got me out here looking like I’m single," Laurent shrugged with a humble grin as he hung his head.

"You are!" Bryan & Louis exploded in laughter.

He shrugged at them once more, sitting up straight as he adjusted his jacket out of habit. He hoped his blind date really was a no a show, then he’d be able to successfully wiggle his way out of his friend’s millionth attempt at setting him up with someone.

"She’ll be here soon, man," Bryan assured Laurent, reading his bored expression. Laurent glanced at him, nodding nonchalantly as he watched him answer a text on his phone. He raised his glass to his lips, letting his eyes glaze over the thrashing crowd; his attention stolen near the entrance.

Locking her phone, Liza intertwined her fingers in Amelia’s as she led her past the bouncer and into the rushing atmosphere of the club.

She felt sky high in her ankle strapped heels, the satin material of her white jumper pants whispering over her freshly lotioned legs. Her skin began to feel dewy in the crowed setting; she was thankful she’d finally decided on a slightly sheer black crop top. She could already feel the humidity attack her freshly laid bun. Norelle held onto her other arm, trailing along as Liza led them toward the bar area. Brushing up on sweaty, dancing bodies led to Amelia meeting the stare of several prospect men. She let her eyes watch the tiled floors instead, her cheeks burning. It was rare for her to dress up in this way and so the attention was a new experience every time.

"There they are!" Norelle shouted in both Liza and Amelia’s ears.

"Hm?" Amelia lifted her eyes to the direction Liza had been dragging them, her eyes bugging in surprise.

"Mia?" Laurent stood from his seat absentmindedly as the trio approached him.

His eyes glossed over her once more and were unsatisfied--so they roamed over her again, picking apart every piece of her aesthetic. He marveled in her attire, wondering where she’d had it hidden; he was so used to seeing her dressed casually that the look was a truly pleasant surprise. He took in every detail of her from how her winged eyeliner made her eyes feline-like to her glossy red toes peeking out of her heels. He finally settled on her deep red lips as they broke into a smile.

"Hey?" She greeted him with a curious smile.

"You look…damn," Laurent’s lips acted before his mind could, his eyebrows raised.

"Thanks," Amelia brushed imaginary lint from her bottoms as to buy her time to allow her burning cheeks to cool over. "What are you doing here?" She looked up again, his eyes still innocent and searching. "Aren’t you on a date?"

Louis and Bryan began laughing and she wasn’t sure why as she glanced at them.

"She’s not her--," Laurent began with a shrug but was interrupted.

"She’s right here --have fun bye," Liza smiled in a rush, shoving Amelia into Laurent’s chest as Norelle grabbed both Louis and Bryan’s hands to lead them away. Just like that, the two were left alone, encased in their own paused world; the thumping bass of everything was blocked out.

Amelia braced herself upon Laurent’s chest, laughing nervously as her cheeks burned over, having no plans of cooling down any time soon. Laurent’s arm snaked around her waist, steadying her.

“You alright?” He bent and asked into her ear. She glanced up at him with a shy smile, shaking her head.

“I can’t believe them,” she laughed nervously once again, creating space between her body and his. “I should really…I can’t believe them,” she giggled, her words nervously running out of her mouth. She craned her neck in search of her conniving circle of friends—really, looking at everything but Laurent. She was truly embarrassed and caught off guard.

“I—I’m gonna go find them,” Amelia looked up to Laurent’s eyes, ready to spin away from him but she was in for a surprise as his hand encircled her wrist, stopping her from escaping the situation. Escaping him.

“Why are you running?” He asked genuinely. He had to admit-- out of all the stunts his friends had pulled before, this was the most creative. He wasn’t aware of how truly transparent he’d been over the years about his feelings.

“Running?” Amelia glanced at him, her defenses up. She was indeed running. He pursed his lips at her, giving her his all famous ‘don’t bullshit me’ eyes.

“Shut up,” she finally allowed her tensed shoulders to hang freely, laughing as she hid her face in his chest. “This is embarrassing,” she admitted.

The natural comforter, Laurent gave her a squeeze, grabbing her chin. His smile was winning as she looked up at him. “Nothing’s embarrassing; c’mon let’s dance, might as well right?” He shrugged, tugging her along to the dance floor. Amelia let out a stream of air, ever thankful for Laurent’s ability to glaze over any and everything thing deep and thought provoking.

The heavy cloak of awkwardness was whipped off them as they let loose on the dance floor, drinks easily flowing between them, after strong persuasion from Amelia that is. They danced ridiculous circles around each other, earning stares and snickers from other club goers but neither were concerned at how silly they looked hitting the running man, how outdated the bankhead bounce was, or how shameful it was that Laurent’s twerking beat hers by a landslide—this was just another perfect memory being created together.

Eventually, the DJ mixed in Mr. Steal Your Girl. The two stopped fooling around, watching as pairs coupled up around them, winding and grinding in slow circles. Amelia glanced at Laurent and laughed, a little more buzzed than she intended but she was fully aware of she felt as his arms found their place around her waist, her head resting back against the crook of his neck like it always ought to be. They started up with a simple in sync two-step but Amelia could no longer fight her instincts. Her hips wound against him and their eyes met in the shifty shadows of the lights; Laurent’s hooded while her’s twinkled. His hips returned the torturous favor, his grip on her waist possessive. Their hearts beat in rapid excitement as Laurent’s lips grazed along her neck while his hands charted new territory along her body. Basking in the magic of all of him, Amelia stared at his lips from under her lashes and, as if he’d read her mental cue instantly, his lips found hers immediately.

“How mad do you think they are?” Liza snickered, swirling the straw in her drink as she leaned upon Louis’s chest. She looked at Norelle and Bryan across the booth they were sharing as they kept watch over their little love struck friends.

“Not that mad-- look at them,” Bryan smiled, nodding his head toward the set up couple lost in their own world on the dance floor.

“If we didn’t do this, they’d never get together,” Norelle rolled her eyes, finally happy to see her two friends move on to the next chapter of their relationship.

She glanced up at them, her smile brightening as she caught Laurent’s lips slipping over Amelia’s.

“Look!” She alerted the others. She stood and pointed, jumping up and down.

“YESSSS, YA’LL BETTER DO THAT—YES!”

Startled, both Laurent and Amelia snapped their necks to the right, catching sight of Norelle clapping and smiling at them, the others around her whooping and throwing thumb’s ups into the air. Amelia turned, burying her face into Laurent’s chest as he leaned over in laughter. He spun them around, his back facing them, his frame towering over Amelia. He blocked them out completely, losing himself in her once again.

They were disturbing his blind date.+

#lt oneshot #look who has risen from the dead :)#lt fanfic #lt fanfics

30 notes · View notes

forgranted-ff · 11 years ago

Text

Chapter Eight

"Comment savez-vous sûr?" ["How do you know for sure?”]

“Man, look at him. Dites-moi que ce n'était pas nous quand nous étions bébés." ["Tell me that wasn’t us when we were babies."]

Laurent stood beside his brother as he sat in an armchair, a nurse teaching him how to properly bottle feed the infant in his arms. Larry already knew how to hold a baby’s head and how to tilt the bottle so it wouldn’t run too fast but he still appeased the kind older woman, nodding attentively as she taught him. Once she’d left, Laurent picked up his conversation with his brother.

"Avez-vous fait le test de paternité?" ["Did you do the paternity test?"] He asked.

"Nous n'avons elle le jour où il est né, les résultats seront là dans deux semaines." ["We did it the day he was born, the results will be here in two weeks."] Larry said absentmindedly, staring into the big brown eyes of who he adamantly believed to be his first born son.

"Je vous ai dit d'arrêter de jouer avec lui il ya longtemps, maintenant, regardez où vous êtes." ["I told you to stop messing with her a long time ago, now look where you are."] Laurent tsked while Larry groaned.

“Lau, please. Il est ici, je ne peux pas faire quelque chose maintenant."["He’s here; I can’t do anything about it now."]

Laurent sighed, letting it go. He stared curiously at the baby, putting his finger by his little clenched fist, smiling he gripped him on reflex.

"Quel est son nom?" ["What’s his name again?”] Laurent said thoughtfully, entertaining the thought of being a new uncle—even if he’d gone through it before with his other siblings, this was different. This was his twin’s child.

"Nicolas, je l'ai appelé Nicolas." ["Nicolas, I named him Nicolas."] Larry smiled up at him.

Laurent asked to hold him, adjusting Nicolas’s little pale blue hat as he began to ask when they’d be able to go home. He’d been visiting baby Nicolas, Larry, and…Larry’s side piece for a few days now at the hospital. He didn’t get the chance to ask because speaking of side piece…

"Votre copine appelle pour vous, M. Bourgeois." ["Your girlfriend is calling for you, Mr. Bourgeois."] A nursed came into the nursery, as both Laurent and Larry looked up. Laurent scoffed at Larry failing to correct the nurse, following him, with baby Nicolas in his arms, down the hall into the hospital room she was in.

"Quel est le problème?" ["What’s wrong?”] Larry asked as he walked in, Laurent behind him.

"J'ai besoin d'aide se lever." ["I need help getting up."] Emilie moaned, trying to swing her legs over the side of the hospital bed. Laurent rolled his eyes. ‘Is she serious?’

"C'est ce que les infirmières sont pour." ["That’s what the nurses are for,”] He said pointedly, rocking a nodding Nicolas in his arms, his little mouth twisted in a yawn.

“Lau.” Larry shot him a warning look as he went to aid the mother of his child out of bed. She was still sore from having delivered Nicolas from a cesarean operation.

“What?” Laurent shrugged, placing the slumbering baby down in his little bed beside the hospital bed.

“Nice to see you too, Lau,” Emilie smiled sarcastically, holding Larry’s hand as she stood slowly.

C'est tellement triste que je ne peux pas dire la même chose pour vous, huh?" ["It’s so sad I can’t say the same for you, huh?”] Laurent said nonchalantly.

“Laurent, tais-toi,” Larry said, annoyed with the two of them and their rivalry. Ever since Emilie had lost Larry’s trust by being unfaithful, she’d become Laurent’s public enemy #1. Laurent didn’t appreciate any woman trying to play his brother.

“C'est bien, Larry--your brother’s always been an asshole,” she shrugged to Larry while Laurent flipped her an unapologetic bird.

“Hurry up Larry, we have a meeting.” Laurent rolled his eyes, ducking out of the room.

“Je dois y aller maintenant. Le médecin a dit que vous pouvez laisser aujourd'hui. Appelez-moi plus tard, je vais vous rencontrer à la maison de ma mère.”[I have to go now. The doctor says you can leave today. Call me later, I’ll meet you at my mother’s house.]

Larry spoke to Emilie in a very protective tone as he rubbed her shoulders, double checking her and baby Nicolas before he finally walked out, an impatient Laurent in his ear as they walked toward the elevator.

"Enfin!" [“Finally!”]

“Uh,” Celeste laughed nervously at the baker behind the counter as he raised a curious brow at her. She held up two fingers and pointed with the other hand, signifying she wanted two of the mouth watering croissants he had behind the glass counter. Chuckling, the baker slightly threw his head back in realization.

“Deux?” He quizzed. Celeste nodded her head meekly.

“Oui.”

Her cheeks burned like the novice tourist she was as he stuffed two fluffy croissants into a brown paper bag. She reached for it, leaving the pay on the counter as she gave a small smile and an unsure ‘merci’ as she walked out the front door. Outside, Celeste melted as she bit into one, her eyes wandering about as she crossed the street. She was on her own today and was quite proud that she was able to remember her way from Laurent’s home to the little bakery that constantly smelled like heaven every time they passed it.

By now, the boundaries of ‘day’ and ‘night’ were blurred for Celeste. Hours ran into each other the longer they spent in Paris. Everything was skewed from breakfasts now being eaten in bed under a late afternoon sun to daylong adventures around the city—tacked along with random 3 A.M. dinner escapades and quick, intense lovemaking sessions all in between. Celeste felt like a pampered, spoiled heiress and she loved every moment of it. Of course the excitement of it all had to die eventually; while Laurent was home to enjoy leisure time, see his family, and share apart of himself with Celeste-- he also had in-town business to attend to with his twin. With that being said, Celeste was left with a lot of time on her hands to explore as she pleased.

Speaking of his twin—Celeste hadn’t seen Larry much at all now that she thought about it, which was strange for his normally clingy self. He’d come around Laurent’s place once the entire 2 weeks she’d been there—very early in the morning.

Celeste had caught the two in the living room, their voices hushed as they conversed in French—she couldn’t help but eavesdrop, whether she understood or not. By his tone, Laurent sounded like he was giving some type of advice while Larry’s face remained unreadable and his lips wordless with an occasional agreeing nod here and there. Eventually, Celeste had eased her way downstairs, acting aloof as she raided the fridge for a water bottle. Once her presence was acknowledged, all prior discussion had faded; Larry’s blank eyes now lively with a smile as he ambled toward her for a hug. She noted the dark rings under his eyes and wondered why a man on vacation looked so exhausted but said nothing about it. He parted with them from there, mentioning to Laurent he’d be at “maman’s place” for the remainder of the day. Laurent gave a simple nod, and then, like nothing happened, hugged her from behind, kissing her cheek.

Celeste had been left with many questions but she didn’t want to seem like she was prying—whatever it was, it was taking a toll on Larry. She hoped it wasn’t anything with Shari—but then again she would’ve been heard from her sister if that was the case.

Letting herself inside the house, Celeste placed the key she was given in her pocket, leaving a half eaten croissant on the kitchen counter. It was still early afternoon and from the text she’d just received; Laurent wouldn’t make it back any time soon for lunch.

As good as lying in bed with a bowl of fruit watching dramatic yet interesting French soap operas sounded to Celeste—she’d done enough of that in a week, so she did her next favorite thing.

Some may call it snooping but she liked to innocently refer to it as an in-depth home tour.

She’d already entertained herself with precious family photo albums, gone through his eccentric, unnecessarily large closet, and stumbled upon an interesting collection of rings but there was a room that remained untouched that Celeste needed to see.

She never pegged Laurent as an avid reader but then again he did like to parade his knowledge around like he was some philosophical guru so it shouldn’t have surprised her when she’d found the little room in the back hall to be a study. It was small and simple; sunlight streamed from a single window, a little desk and swivel chair sat in the middle of the room with it walls invaded by three, over-stuffed bookshelves.

Sitting in the chair, Celeste picked a book at random, smiling at its worn cover. It looked like a middle school-level novel with its animated cover; its title didn’t do much but stump her. It’d definitely been read a number of times over the years and Celeste fancied the thought of Laurent possibly being the sentimental type.

She spent the next few hours flipping through more French novels, surprised when she found just as many in English. He had several DIY books concerning business and finances and she figured that made complete sense what with him and Larry’s “trust nobody, trust yourself” mentality but what she dubbed to be the most out of place find was a paperback entitled Best of All. It was a sort of…self help book for a lack of better words. Its binding was weakened and bent like it was handled on a regular, several of its pages were repeatedly dog-eared and plenty of sentences were underlined--none of which Celeste could remotely understand since it was in French as opposed to its title.

“Baby?”

Celeste’s head snapped as she closed the little paperback, hearing Laurent’s voice; time had escaped her easily. She listened to his footsteps around the house realizing the once blue sky was now turning orange. Laurent walked past his open study, backtracking once he noticed her.

“What you doing?” He smiled at her as he walked inside. How he always managed to look like a breath of fresh air stooped Celeste.

“I got bored,” she spun in his chair.

“You stay here all day? Not going out?”

“I did!” She said defensively with a giggle.

“Where?” He pursed his lips in doubt.

“The bakery.” She titled her nose at him haughtily.

“You mean the little place that take, what? 1 minute to walk there?”

“Gee, you’re so funny—that was an accomplishment, okay?” Celeste frowned playfully as he leaned over to kiss her forehead.

“How was your day?” She grabbed at his hand, swinging it as he sat on the edge of the desk. Distracted, he nodded at the book in her lap.

“That my favorite.” He took it, standing to place it gingerly in its place. “It got a lot of positive things.” He explained even though Celeste didn’t ask. It seemed like he was stuck in a train of thought for a moment before he turned his attention back to her.

“Come,” he pulled her up eventually. “We shower, we going out.”

“Where?” She raised a brow at him as he pulled her into his side. He smelled very fragrant.

“You see when we get there.”

“Thank you,” Celeste sighed as she accepted her freshly poured glass of wine from the waiter. She closed her lips around the rim, letting her eyes finally fall on Laurent who’d been staring at her the entire time. His buff hid his lips leaving the little piercing beads he called eyes to attack her. No matter how many times they engaged in improv staring contests, he always seemed to win.

“What?” She asked, lowering her eyes to fix the already perfectly aligned silverware by her plate.

“Nothing,” he said finally, letting the buff fall. Celeste watched the way his lips pushed forward as he spoke. “You just beautiful.”

Grabbing her glass once again, Celeste blushed giving a muffled ‘thank you’. She was never too good at accepting random compliments and Laurent was one to dish them out generously. She could feel his amused gaze on her as she busied herself with their surroundings. Paris just seemed to be filled with all the whimsical, romantic places Celeste had always imagined; no matter how much Laurent teased her about it. They were at yet another outdoor restaurant, this one having a beautiful garden theme. Celeste couldn’t get over how lovely it smelled when they were seated. Mixed with the pink light of the sunset, the comfortable humidity that hung in the air, this was probably her favorite place yet.

Celeste snapped out of her thoughts when a light flashed in her peripheral.

She snapped her head towards Laurent, the light of his phone illuminating his face as he busily tapped away on it.

“Lau—give me!” Celeste gasped, reaching for his phone. She was not a fan of off guard pictures and those seemed be the only one’s Laurent knew how to take apparently.

He waved her hands away with ease, finally giving her the phone once he was satisfied. To her horror, Celeste found she was staring at a picture of her profile on his Instagram. Her face was drawn to the left, a curtain of frizzy hair crowding her cheek, as her hand lay perched her under her chin. The glow of the candle on their table flickered before her hidden face and it was even more evident with the black and white filter Laurent had chosen. The ‘little monkey’ emoji hiding his face was the only caption he spared. She watched as his phone began to blow up silently with notifications of ‘likes’ and ‘comments’, fear beginning to pit in her stomach. Up to this point, things were still maybe-kinda-sorta-not really-but yeah ambiguous with Laurent, and she definitely did not want the opinion of his thousands of fans on it either.

“Delete it,” she said firmly as she could, he had to know she was not amused.

“Why? Is a nice picture, you look so nice when you think so hard,” he teased her. Celeste was accustomed to Laurent being her own personal paparazzi but he’d never uploaded it to any of his social media—that was their sort of…compromise.

“Because I said so,” She squinted her eyes.

“Gimme a good reason why?”

“I’m a private person.”

“So? Me too. You scared of fans?” He cocked his head, a teasing smile spreading on his lips.

“No!”

“So then it stay,” he purred. “Is nothing wrong, I juste take a picture of my friend,” he added innocently.

Celeste gave him a look and an in-depth eye roll before she snatched her glass up, taking another swig. She knew he knew damn well the friend ‘ship’ they barely even had, had sailed away long ago before blooming into more. She smiled at the thought against her own will, shaking her head with a response for him but it never got the chance to leave her lips.

“Lau!” A voice shouted behind her. She watched Laurent’s face fill up in a bright smile as he looked past her, so she turned in her seat to investigate.

A pale skinned man approached their table, a phone in his hand and a smile on his face. He had short brown hair, a little stubble on his chin and pretty, almond shaped eyes. He looked like he could be of some Asian ancestry otherwise he was simply blessed. He breezed past her chair, his hand connecting with Laurent’s in a loud handshake ending with a snap as Laurent stood to greet him even more a short hug.

"Vous êtes à Paris et que vous n'avez même pas dit à personne!" ["You’re in Paris and you didn’t even tell anyone!”] Mystery man snickered while Laurent rolled his eyes, regaining his seat.

"Je suis en vacances." [I’m on vacation, man.] He laughed.

They carried on in light conversation as Celeste watched, too scared to jump in to make herself known. She waited patiently for Laurent to introduce her but she didn’t mind, whoever this was, was obviously a good friend of his and they were simply catching up. She reached her hand to grab at her wine glass, pouting when she found it to be empty. Too lazy to call on the waiter, she tried to sneak her hand across the table to steal Laurent’s full glass but both eyes instantly snaked out the intruder. Celeste batted her eyes in embarrassment as Laurent gave her a look and mystery man stared at her curiously.

“I’m sorry,” Mystery man smiled. “Lau is so rude, he don’t introduce me to his beautiful friend.” Celeste blushed in flattery as he kissed the back of her hand.

“I’m Celeste.”

“I’m Shaun,” he touched his chest. “Me him, his twin, and some other guys too… are apart of Criminalz, you heard of this?”

Celeste nodded her head in realization, now that she thought about it, she did sort of recognize him from pictures she’d seen. Being a dutiful ‘cheerleader’, Celeste was aware the twins were apart of other crews apart from themselves, Criminalz Crew being one of them.

“I do,” Celeste smiled. “You guys are really good.”

Shaun humbly accepted her compliment, eyeing her a bit before his eyebrows raised. Celeste caught the gesture and didn’t understand but waited for it to be elaborated on. Instead, Laurent and Shaun picked up the French banter they’d be engaging in before, shutting her out.

"Est-elle qui vous venez de mettre sur IG?" ["Is she who you just put up on IG?"] Shaun asked, waving the phone in his hand.

"Ouais, pourquoi?" ["Yeah, why?”] Laurent shrugged.

"Vous n'avez jamais mis les autres sur votre merde" ["You never put the others on your shit,"] Shaun mused.

Laurent shrugged with a smile, his hands clasped before his face. "Je sais." [“I know.”]

"Elle ressemble à une bonne fille, je vous vois déjà," ["She looks like a good girl—I already see you,"] Shaun shook his head.

"Elle est." ["She is,"] Laurent said simply, leaving at that but the smile on his face said much more.

Just as quickly as it’d gone up, their little private bubble erupted as Shaun faced Celeste, a grin on his face.

“I go now,” he waved. “Have a good night.”

Celeste watched curiously as he walked on towards a table where a lovely young lady awaited him. By the time she looked away, their waiter had arrived with both their dishes, Laurent already digging into his fish fillet while the scent of Celeste’s chicken breast wafted up to her nose. She wasn’t letting him off so easy.

“What were you guys talking about?” She said, looking at him as he stuck a forkful in his mouth. Ever most graceful, he replied, his dinner playing peek-a-boo from his mouth.

“Nothing,” he smiled.

“You were talking about me,” she pointed her fork at him playfully before cutting up her meal.

“Yeah? What we say then?”

Celeste squinted at him until he had no choice but to laugh.

“You worry for nothing…worry for what I say to you, nothing else.” He said simply, returning to his dinner.

Celeste took what he said into consideration, dropping the matter. If anything, they were simply doing what guys do. She was learning more and more how to stop wondering and analyzing—and just take things for how they truly were. Laurent had a funny way of saying it, but it was true—she had nothing to worry about except for the opinions of those who mattered to her.

He was definitely one of them.

The couple continued on with their dinner date, encased in their own world of laughs and conversation. Mystery Bourgeois wasn’t that reserved when he wanted to be and it was something Celeste wondered—why he kept the different parts of him so separate?

With dinner paid and out of the way, the two meandered into the greenery section of the outdoor eatery, casually basking in the light of the moon as they enjoyed the flowers. The stars were out and twinkling while they enjoyed each other, weaving in between bouts of thoughtful silence and muted conversation. They both seemed to be alone in their thoughts together at times, always brought back to reality whenever they'd brush walking side by side. Laurent’s coat sat on Celeste’s shoulders as she gushed over a wild mass of blue gem flowers. Playfully, he snatched one from its stem, carefully placing it behind her ear.

She looked beautiful to him, exceptionally.

“You know your name is French?” He said asked, brushing hair from her face so the flower could stand out. His question was random, but welcomed. What wasn’t random about him?

“Hm, I had a hunch,” Celeste said sarcastically with a smile.

“You know what it mean?”

She was named after and by her grandmother, but it wasn’t anything she’d ever thought about before, it was just a first-born daughter tradition in her family. “I don’t know, the sky, space,” Celeste guessed. “My grandma named me.”

“It mean heavenly,” Laurent breathed, sizing her up a little. “She do right.”

“You’re cheesy,” Celeste giggled. “You want something?”

“I see what I want, I looking at her,” he said slyly.

Celeste stopped their walk. “Okay, you really want something, what?” She squinted.

“I can’t be honest?” He said with faux surprise.

“No,” Celeste giggled. “No you can’t, I don’t trust you.” Part of it wasn’t a lie but he didn’t need to know that.

“I’m always honest,” he murmured, his soft-spoken voice running like silk but behind it was an air of seriousness and Celeste picked up on it. They stopped by a bunch of calla lilies, other couples dotted around randomly in their own worlds. Celeste waited for him to elaborate as he absentmindedly picked at one.

“Can I be real with you, now?” He asked, twirling a stem between his fingers as her peered at her. The moonlight kissed his skin just right. Celeste watched him intently, waiting for him to embellish, unaware that a shallow ‘sure’ had escaped her lips.

“I’m not easy,” he began and for once it seemed like he was struggling with his words. Celeste watched curiously, it was a sight to see he who was controlled and calculated, out of control.

“I’m…not easy to deal with, I know this,” he found his wording. His eye brows furrowed as he struggled with his thoughts. Celeste didn’t follow.

“Why are you saying this?” She touched his arm, the comforter in her came out, and she couldn’t help it.

“Because I am, and because I’m honest,” he laughed a little. “I make you angry, I know.” And Celeste soon realized what exactly he was referring to, the ah-ha moment was all over her face as she nodded slowly.

“I’m good for everything,” he boasted. “But somethings… just not my thing.” He shook his head. “But I try with you, understand?” Celeste was trying to.

“So…?” she waited because certain things ‘not being his thing’ didn’t explain why he couldn’t answer her overseas but then acted like all was well once he was back. She felt like this was some backward way of expressing an apology.

“Relationship not my thing.” He finally admitted. “But I try with you.”

It all clicked for Celeste finally, a mental note in her mind reminding her of his ‘favorite book’. Something was definitely up with Laurent or had happened to him and he had let her know—he had explained his behavior. It was all up to her now to accept his rationale or leave him high and dry. She didn’t even have the heart to consider the latter. Living up to his title, the man of little words was definitely through speaking for the evening and Celeste respected the silence as they left the restaurant, her mind thoughtful as she thought over what he said. It gave her plenty of time to assess her situation and decide whether or not it was worth the leap.

‘He just needs a little fixing…’

The entire ride home she watched him from the behind the curtain her hair provided and could see it was a lot for him to admit what he did. Laurent was and wasn’t intimate at the same time—while his was physically, insatiably passionate...sharing his thoughts wasn’t something he readily jumped to. The more Celeste thought about it, the more her heart melted. He was a man trapped behind some type of show, and all he needed was a little coaxing to be his true self. She could gladly be the catalyst he needed, she could.

Laurent retained his cool façade as he and Celeste called it a night, drove home, and made it inside his home. He was waiting. Whatever their future held was now in her hands with what he told her. If he gauged correctly, all would be in his favor but it was a nerve wracking wait. Celeste was quiet and he knew she was thinking and he’d hoped she was thinking of the reasons why she should put up with him. Inside his bedroom, he had began the task removing his jewelry. He could feel her watching from across the room as she lay in his bed. He listened to her sit up, crawl to the foot of the bed, pad over his carpet—and felt as she wrapped her bare arms around his waist.

“I say we start small,” She said thoughtfully, looking up at him. Laurent tried follow where she was going with this. “I’ll send you all the long, drawn out paragraphs of how I miss you when you’re overseas all I want,” Laurent chuckled at how animated she was. “…and you can read them all you want, but under one condition.”

He smiled at her, taking off his final ring. “What’s this?”

“You have to reply with an emoji, a smiley, something small,” she poked at his chest. “Baby steps.”

Laurent laughed in relief at the way she was telling him what he needed to hear.

She was accepting it, accepting him.

“A smiley huh?” He pondered, playing into her act. He turned to face her; she looked so sweet in her white silk camisole pajama set. He listened to her squeal as he hoisted her up, her legs now finding their place around his hips and his hands finding her bottom.

“Yes, a smiley, and then,” she rested her hands on his shoulders, tracing his tattoos absentmindedly, “we can move on to words, phrases—you know, actual sentences…,” she looked at him again, widening her eyes in sarcasm.

They both burst out laughing, Celeste resting her head in the crook of her neck. When she raised it again, she was met with the warmth of his lips on hers, gladly welcoming the surprise. All the pent up worries forming at the pit of her stomach were released as she exhaled…his tongue rolling with hers…her arms tightening around his neck…his fingers digging into her hips--as her skin met the coolness of his bed sheets, the weight of all of him looming over and on her the way she loved it.

Content.

What’s the worst that could happen?

#lt fanfic #lt fanfics #lt fanfiction #lt fanfictions #sorry for any botched french #its the thought that counts :D #and also sorry for the late update! enjoy

19 notes · View notes