nollicannoli

[nollicannoli]

sorry, this is really the last one, i swear

[nollicannoli]

New Rules (2017) by Dua Lipa

[nollicannoli]

La Fille En Rouge

“La Fille En Rouge”

That's what you called me the first time you saw me.

Me and my boyfriend were walking through the streets of London, we were hand in hand and little laughs left our lips the way waves leave the sea.

You were dancing in the street. If we were the ocean, barreling towards the shore, you were the wind that flowed above us both. You moved so beautifully, it was like watching poetry being thought up in the mind of an artist.

I was inspired in that moment like never before.

My boyfriend wanted to keep going, but I tugged his hand back and made him watch you. My hand even left his, if only for a moment.

You stopped when you saw me. You were sweating, though you'd later deny it, and the brightness of a future gleamed at me from those beaming eyes. A shade of brown so gorgeous and honest, a color I could never recreate despite my most desperate attempts.

You smiled wistfully at me. I smiled back, I hope.

“La fille en rouge”

Your French was as perfect as ever. Your mouth grasps words so wonderfully.

“Huh?” I muttered after a moment, even though I knew what it meant.

You laughed. A sound like wind flowing through chimes that I still can't believe I hear with my own ears.

“Sorry”

Fuck, your English was perfect too. God, there wasn't a word you couldn't say to me that wouldn't make me fall ever more in love with you.

“Your red dress is beautiful.” You made me blush, ten seconds after I'd met you.

Not that I didn't blush often, social situations were like war to me. My face knew red the way that a blade did.

“The girl in red.” You said, this time in English.

“It sounds sort of like a song.” You went back to dancing after you said that one.

I was left standing there, with my boyfriend laughing at me and pulling me away.

I was dragged back to our hotel, trying to figure out why I didn't even say thank you, and playing with names for you in my head like a puzzle.

I slept just a little further away from him that night.

You said it the next time I saw you, too.

It was in that little cafe two weeks later. I think it was even on the same street you danced on.

“La fille en rouge”

My head jolted like when I was back in high school. Like that shitty teacher had just caught me on my phone again.

You smiled at me over that dainty cup of black tea with a hint of mint and a dash of milk.

I was almost too enraptured by you to notice that man sitting opposite you.

I came over when you beckoned.

“We meet again”

You remembered that I speak English.

“Hey again.” My words don't dance like yours.

“What is your name?” Your voice is as warm as that tea on your lips.

“Gil.” It took me a minute to say. “Gilda, but Gil”

“It's my pleasure to meet you, Gil”

The pleasure was all mine.

“My name is Celestine”

Suddenly Gil was a useless name and Celestine was the most phonetically pleasing alignment of sounds.

After a beat of silence, she beckoned to the man.

“This is my boyfriend, Geoff”

Speaking of names, Geoff was an ugly one.

He looked like all those men on the mail order bride documentaries.

You look like a goddess.

I almost asked ‘Why?’

It was on the tip of my tongue, and I almost didn't stop it.

“Pleasure.” Came out instead.

You giggled a little. I'm sure it was at how awkward I was. He grinned.

I wondered if you were actually drinking liquor instead of tea that day.

You looked at me expectantly. My eyebrows scrunched together in question. You answered with a nod to my boyfriend.

I forgot all about him in that moment.

“Oh, this is Sam”

My introduction was accented with an unenthused wave toward Sam.

He shook your hand. God, your hands are so warm.

You and Sam exchanged a few words, but all I could focus on was the way your lips wrapped around vowels.

“Well, we have to go. We can't miss our flight”

I balked for a second at Sam, then remembered that we actually did have to head off if we wanted to make our flight.

You laughed about this later.

We said goodbye, and we went our separate ways.

I made sure to get a handshake of my own before we parted.

The next time I saw you was in Portugal. Sam was in bed, but I decided to walk on the beach at night.

I had lost track of time, and the ocean was starting to feel a lot warmer than the bite of cold that the wind on the beach carried.

I waded deeper. Only to my waist.

I was wearing a loose pink dress, which floated around me like the waves themselves as it melded with the water.

“La fille”

You just said that word, but my mind filled the rest in.

I spun around faster than my heart was beating.

You beamed at me.

“Celestine!”

God I was so lame.

“Come on, dragă”

I didn't know what that word meant

“You must come up with a better name for me”

I thought for a moment, and smiled at you.

“Your name is beautiful enough”

I think you blushed.

You pulled me close, and put your arms around my neck. You swayed your hips. It's the first time I'd ever danced like that with someone.

We talked and talked, and talked some more.

I found out you were from Romania, and laughed when I said that I was from New Hampshire.

I learned that you're a dancer, and a damn good one at that.

You smiled a lot when you found out that I'm just a student that's on a little vacation.

We went back and forth like the sea that engulfed us.

It was only until the moon rose to an apex and began to sink that I realized how long we'd actually been talking.

“I need to get back”

I could've sworn you frowned just a little bit, but I blinked and you weren't. It was probably just the lighting.

“Until we meet again, ma fille”

You leaned in a little. I leaned to. It was only until our lips almost met that you stopped me.

“I have Geoff, and you have Sam. Until that is no longer true, we will refrain”

She was right, yet I was still disappointed.

“How can I contact you?”

You asked for my number, and I gave it. You promised that you'd remember, that you're great with numbers.

We hugged goodbye.

I broke up with Sam the next morning.

We'd only been dating for three months. He wasn't too upset, and neither was I.

You texted me four days later. Your number looked so weird, I wasn't used to European numbers.

We texted about the dumbest things. Constantly, but also loosely.

I was still with the same group of people that I embarked to Europe with, as per the arrangement of the trip, but I was so distant from them.

I was taking in everything on my own, with you in my pocket.

I'd take in the day. View the cities and countrysides, draw and paint and express myself in simple ways, and then I'd text you about it.

Or talk on FaceTime. That became our thing at that time.

I didn't see you for a month. It was a beautiful month, touring Europe, but I missed you so much.

We met again in Turkey. I didn't know that you'd be there, nor did you I.

It was at a market this time. I stopped to browse the wares, and I heard your voice resonate from were the merchant was.

You were speaking Romanian with him, I think. You were asking where to get some coffee. You told me later that day.

You thanked the merchant, and then you saw me.

The world stopped for a moment, and resumed with your smile.

You did your standard greeting, but changed it up with a hug this time.

“How long are you in Turkey?” You were so excited.

“Not sure yet. A few weeks maybe? It's a little different with each trip”

You grabbed my hand.

“Can you skip out on your group for a bit?”

“Without a doubt”

You took me to get some coffee. I said it was a little too strong but you loved it. You drank mine and bought me a sparkling water instead.

We snuck into a museum and nestled into a tour group. The guide just smiled at us, and continued talking. She spoke Turkish.

“Do you understand Turkish?”

You shook your head. We giggled, and stayed anyways.

We ate a late lunch at a food cart. You ordered for me, since the lady spoke French. You also paid.

It was such a beautiful day. The sun shone warmly down on us at just the perfect angle. You looked like all those vintage photographs that your grandparents show you of when they first fell in love.

You took me to the roof of a building that night to watch the stars.

I laid too close to you. You just pulled me closer.

The galaxy had nothing on you.

The stars, the planets, the whole of the universe all evaporated as soon as I held you in my eyes.

I looked at your face, as marvelous as ever, and I wrapped my fingers around yours like a lover’s arms around another.

“I broke up with him”

You hummed.

“I left Geoff”

I hummed.

You turned your head, just as I did.

The lids of my eyes closed out the world around us. All of the Earth and the stars far beyond disappeared, and I dove head first into your ocean.

Kissing you for the first time was like settling into my bed after being away for months. It felt like coming home.

I love kissing you, and I did it so often.

Looking back now, I might've done it a little too much.

I kissed you after meals, when you giggled, after you had your tea. I kissed you casually, and I kissed you deeply.

“Did you leave him just for me?” You asked, soaking wet from the water of a river and wearing nothing but a blissful smile.

“No”

“Why, then?”

“He didn't work with me. He was a little too selfish. He didn't treat me nicely”

There was a pause. I pondered, and I think you did too.

“What about you?” I asked.

“No”

You got quiet, so I nudged you to keep going.

“He hit me”

“When?”

That moment was the fastest that my heart had ever beat.

I felt anger, worry and protectiveness all roll into one feeling.

Fear.

“When”

You shrugged, so nonchalantly. For the first time ever, I couldn't read your emotion.

“Two days after our day on the beach, I think”

You told me about how he used to fight with you over the smallest things. You told me about how controlling he could be, and how he hated when you made choices for yourself.

He just hit you the once, though. You said you left right after his hand made contact with you.

“Are you okay?”

You laughed a little. I sighed in relief.

“I am fine. He's an angry person, and I don't want him to affect my life anymore. Fuck him”

We both giggled together.

Fuck him.

After that, we told each other darker things.

I told you about my mother’s alcoholism, and why I don't go near alcohol.

You told me about how cancer took your brother.

We cried about some of them. Like my grandmother dying and your father’s suicide.

“I had an abortion”

Your head was resting on my chest when you said it. Neither of us flinched.

You said you feel guilty, but you don't regret it.

You shouldn't regret it.

The guilt comes from your mother, you told me. You said she kicked you out because she was so mad at you.

She did it because she can't bear children, and she saw the abortion as a violent act against her.

I'm so sorry.

You cried a lot with that one, and I held you all night.

The next morning, I made you tea with a hint of mint and a dash of milk, just the way you like it.

That made you smile.

Neither of us said it, but we both thought it.

And now, as you lay sleeping next to me just like that beautiful morning, with the end of my trip looming over us like a storm, I'm thinking about what you asked me yesterday.

“Will you stay?”

We were in France this time, underneath some gorgeous tree that had beautiful pink flowers.

“After the trip, will you stay here with me?”

I told you I had to think, because I missed my friends and family back home.

You said you understand if I want to go, and you gave me a kiss as sweet as the pastries we'd been eating since early that morning.

Your eyes are fluttering a little.

The sunlight is dancing on your eyelashes like it did on the waves that morning you woke me up early to hear the birds sing.

It's only been five months that I've known you, but I don't care.

I have my answer.

Yes. I will stay with you.

[nollicannoli]

I'm bac