Page 33 of Blue Eyes & Paris Vibes

“Where do you want to go?” he asks when we step into the surprisingly warm night air, a soft wind playing around us.

I shrug and glance up at him. “I don’t care.”

As long as it’s with you,I silently add in my head. Even though unspoken, it hangs heavy in the air between us, wanting to be voiced, but I just can’t. Because that would make it real. And I don’t need this to become any more real than it already is if we’re saying ‘goodbye’ tomorrow.

Instinctively, we both turn to walk towards the Seine, our steps slow and measured on the cobblestones, walking beside each other silently, his hand on the small of my back and mine snaked around his middle, both of us trailing after our own thoughts with our impending goodbye looming over us like a cloud.

“What are you going to do back home?” he asks softly as we round a corner to the river, the water glistening in the night, reflecting the streetlamps from the opposite shore.

“I’ll try not to lose myself,” I whisper with a shrug. “I’ve got a full-time job waiting, and a new daily routine ahead. All I can do is hope that I won’t end up burned out like so many others and that my job turns out to be more fun than I currently anticipate.”

I take a deep breath, leaning my head against his shoulder. I’d pushed all thoughts of it aside, but now my worries come back with a vengeance. But I force them back into the dark corner of my mind that they came from. Not yet. Not today. “How about you?”

When I glance up at him, his face is unreadable.

“I don’t know,” he admits softly, his shoulders sagging in what looks like defeat. “I need to make some changes, that much I know. But I don’t know what they are yet, or what my life will look like.”

“Sounds ominous,” I tease him playfully bumping into him, making him take a step to the side.

“Well, that’s life,” he says with an emotionless chuckle. “You never quite know what comes next.” His voice softens, as does his expression. “Like you. I didn’t expect you either, Abby. But you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a while.”

I go quiet, my skin prickling with questions I’m not brave enough to ask. Part of me wants to ask what he means. To reach for something more. But I don’t. I can’t.

Because even if there’s more behind his words, chasing it won’t change the reality: in a few hours, we’ll be living in different worlds, a goddamn ocean apart.

No. I’m better off not knowing, not making this any harder than it already is.

“Can you do me a favor?” I whisper, after minutes of silence, a small smile tugging at my lips as the Eiffel Tower starts sparkling for the last time today, just as we walk past it.

“Anything,” he mumbles, reaching for my hand.

I keep my eyes fixed on a spot ahead, afraid that if I look at him, I’ll lose my nerve, the words sitting on the edge of my tongue, heavy, yet fragile. Should I really say it? It feels ridiculous. Too much.

But I blurt them out anyway.

“Don’t forget about me. Please?” I whisper, barely loud enough to hear.

I feel him stiffen beside me in surprise. We keep walking, our footsteps falling into sync, but the silence stretches, until it becomes unbearable.

“You know what, forget I said that,” I mumble, the words tumbling out. “We don’t even really know each other, and… Oh God, it’s not like we’ll see each other again, and—”

He pulls me to a halt, turning me toward him and lets go of my hand to wrap his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

“Even if I wanted to,” he says with a tender voice, his blue eyes searching mine, “which I don’t, just to make that clear, there’s no way I could ever forget about you, Abby.”

“You promise?” My throat tightens and I can’t help but stare at him, tears welling in my eyes.

“I promise,” he says softly, and there is just something about the way he looks at me, the way he’s holding me, about the tone of his voice that makes me believe him.

Looping my arms around his neck, I lift myself onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his, trying to burn this feeling into my memory.

“Good,” I breathe against them, “because there’s no fucking way I could ever forget you either.”

“You better not,” he mumbles, capturing my lips in another kiss, pushing me against the closest wall as he deepens it.

But then, as if on cue, it starts to rain.

“Oh my god,” I giggle when the sudden surge of water makes us break the kiss, and he grins, raindrops dripping from his hair as snakes his arms around my middle and pulls me closer. I bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his clean, spring-like scent.

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