Wednesday, January the seventeenth:

We went shopping, for him this time... No, it's not the only thing we do! Anyway, we didn't find anything to our liking but I saw a seller - female, medium height, hazelnut hair falling down on both size of her small, almond shaped, face and stopping on her shoulders - that reminded me of something. She didn't recognize us, which was for the best, but we had met before, in this very shop, about a year ago.

The day had begun with the blessing of the sun and I had dressed accordingly. I wore a crimson skirt that came down to my knees, for, even though Pierre and I were a new couple, I knew how much he loved skirts. The air was a bit chilly though so I had a pair of black tights to warm my legs and a black wool-and-cashmere sweater.

When I arrived at the train station, it was raining and I was late. I swore under my breath and looked for my date.

He was standing outside, staring at the crying skies, as I came closer. The air wasn't as cold as I'd have expected it to be considering the weather, which was for the better, nevertheless, it was a change from the warm atmosphere in the train.

Pierre didn't seem to be bothered though. He was standing on the edge of the dry lands, sheltered by the Station but only two feet away from the falling rain.

As I came by him and gently tapped on his shoulder, I wondered what he was thinking about, he looked somehow absorbed, and I hoped that we would start the conversation with something else than a boring talk about weather.

« Funny how the raindrops make the aerodynamics of cars visible . » he said, answering my questions. Doing my best, and failing, to seem a bit upset, I gave him my most concerned frown and I asked if this was some kind of punishment for me being late...

He looked at me, pausing a bit for effect, took an upset gaze, or, more accurately, tried to, and emphasized the importance of being on time. We stayed there, looking at each other while smiles slowly crept on our faces.

« Sorry... next time I'll try to be there soon enough not to see myself be replaced in your mind by a wet car » was my apology, to which he answered with a wry smile and something along the lines of:

« What makes you think you were on my mind before the car? »

« Self-confidence boy, self-confidence... and a bit of hope . » I said, feeling some colors coming to my cheeks. « Now, time to go face the elements! »

He took his umbrella, opened it and we walked out into the raging weather... Ok, it was just mild rain but it's my story Bob, please let me romanticize would you? We walked closed to each other under his umbrella, making our way southwest toward the Place du Capitole.

Truth be told, the conversation was quite unsurprising in it's content, we talked a bit about common friends and we complained about teachers... And yet I liked it, the sound of his voice was deep, warm, comforting and my arm felt right around his.

There was something in his smiles as well that somehow made even the rain look cheery, as though the breeze just wanted to sing along and let the rain be the low drum to our vocal exchanges.

Anyway, we were soon at the Capitole and decided to wander in the Rue d'Alsace Lorraine, one of the merchant streets around it. No more than a mere hundred meter in, going south, the wind doubled and so did the rain, gently encouraging us to take shelter in the close-by Jules.

Once safely sheltered, we decided that we might as well browse to wait the drought out, and so we did! I found a special pleasure in choosing the clothes I might take off him later on, that day or another. I chose a few things and he diligently tried them out under the watchful eyes of an obviously interested saleswoman who couldn't help but compliment him.

I wasn't jealous for one bit (yeah, I'm proud of myself, so what?) as he was accompanying me and wore the clothes that I had chosen, but I'll admit that I still surprised myself when I answered.

« Oh but he's not my boyfriend » in the most natural of tones when the saleswoman complimented Pierre's girlfriend's taste (i.e. mine). The most surprising part though, was yet to come. Pierre thanked awkwardly the girl, wondering what was my agenda. The saleswoman then insisted that he called her by her name, Jeanne, and asked

« I can't help but be curious though, but are you in an agency? »

« A what? What kind of agency? »

« Well a modeling one... obviously! » she answered. The look on his face as she said that was comp-lete-ly priceless and I had to muster all my calm not to burst laughing at his dumbfounded expression.

« Well no, why? » was all he managed to say after a while. Jeanne seemed as surprised by his question as he'd been by hers. She looked at him, up and down and up again, then at me, looking for support, then at him again, not wanting to state the obvious.

« Well, you're quite handsome boy, and those clothes seem to be made better by you. » I said with a smile, coming to Jeanne's help and causing some color to invade Pierre's cheeks. She nodded,

« Exactly! » she agreed before going on, telling him how she was personally interested by taking (pictures of) him as she was quite the amateur in photography. Besides, as a part-time model herself, she could introduce him to people and explain him the ropes of the trade. In no time he had the full name, email and personal phone number of the Jeanne in question, all written on a little bit of paper.

We went to pay for the clothes that suited him best, trying not to make it too awkward with the over-enthusiastic Jeanne.

When we went outside, the rain had left its place to a timid yet smiling sun and I said to Pierre

« I think she might have been slightly interested in you. »

« You think so? » He asked.

I have to admit, I wasn't sure whether he was playing dumb or if he simply was blind. And deaf. And kinda stupid. Or really, really new to the company of women. I looked at him, and the playful smile I found in his eyes reassured me : he wasn't a complete dimwit!

« Still, this conversation with Jeanne do pose a problem. »

« Which one? » I asked. « You don't know how to refuse her charms? Or you wonder when you'll have the time to do some modeling? Or is it the fact that you regret not taking her on the spot? »

« Not exactly... It's what you said actually, the part about you not being my girlfriend... It bugs me. » he said, looking at me from his heights, all serious despite the sun, the fun we'd just had, the solemn beauty of the wet red bricks on the walls and the glimmering cobblestones beneath our feet.

« Oh... » I answered. I paused a moment, looked him in the eyes, put my hand on his neck and felt the goosebumps it gave him. I put myself on tiptoes, leaned toward him and, as my heart was beating so loud I felt it echo everywhere, I whispered in his ear « We could arrange that. »

He smiled, put his hands around my waist and lifted me up a bit.

« Sounds good to me. » he said before pushing his lips on mine. Amidst the thought of simple joy this kiss gave me, I couldn't help but think « I hope the saleswoman didn't saw us ! »

We finished the evening walking hand in hand in Toulouse. We talked about the modeling part which was pretty fun and Pierre told me about a friend of his, Jean, who was quite interested in photography and about the fact that he HAD to tell him, although it would probably give him ideas which might lead to us two posing for him.

«Fine by me as long as we don't wear any stupid costume ! » I conceded but was offered no guarantee on that last part...

After quite a bit of walking and talking, a few surprise pat on his ass (duly reprimanded by a stern look and rolling eyes that I paid no real attention to), we went to a pizzeria to end a good day as one more often should : amidst tomato, ham and cheese!

As we parted ways that night, I was surprised and quite disappointed that he didn't seem at all to want to kiss me...

My disappointment however, was short lived. Just as I was beginning to walk away, he took my hand and pulled it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on my knuckles.

« You really can't do anything like the other, can you? » I asked. « Please, don't stop. »

« Not about to... » He said as he pulled me closer and closed my lips with a kiss.

« Goodnight Aurelia .»

« Goodnight Pierre. »

Oh, and goodnight to you too Bob, knight of memories!