━ { ... the night before + plug your earphones in and listen to this blessing above } 

Issa allowed herself to let loose for the night. She allowed herself to walk with a stranger- well, as strange as a famous painter can get. She allowed herself to blush openly at Roman's tiny, intelligent jokes. She allowed his lips to take her trips through tidbits of his life as a small young boy who humbly lived with his poetic grandparents. She had a mouthful of concepts and terms that she allowed gracing his ears. After all, she thought, it's only a night in France.

They scoured down dark hallways of buildings as old as God himself and giggled as loudly as these empty buildings allowed- embracing the night fearlessly. Randomly smashing seats around tiny tables at small eateries and eating only hot bread rolls with butter and sour cream before scurrying off again.

━ And she loved each second that made every moment seemed worthwhile.

Impulsively, she had led them to the top floor of her favorite old building by the cafe with the loud chef who really only shouted because he cares.

"Sans valeur absolument inutile!" Roman's laughs thundered as Issa had hoped at the scene below as said chef bitterly smacked his waiter by the head whilst throwing his pasta out for the eager mongrels slinking by the back gate.

"Charlie bébé, pourquoi devez-vous être si grossier? Why so crude?" Issa hoots heartily her usual endearment at her favorite chef.

The man was France embodied. All long tied hair, stout in his apron and white mushroom hat and a belly so big, she had wondered if the customers had had their lunches or he did.

"Aww Issa, vous brillez plus belle que les étoiles dans le ciel..." Charlie the chef kisses his fingers and thrust them in the air like the French would and Issa's blush only twinkled softly across her chocolate cheeks.

"You say this everytime Charlie!"

"It is only the truth I speak mon chéri, Issa..." His English, with her perpetual help on Saturday evenings, will get better. She smacked a loud mwah from her lips to him, still laughing as Charlie held his hand to his heart in salute before returning to his scolding match at the waitress.

"I love that old man" These words felt free out in the open and silence rented the gaps of unsaid words biding time behind the jails of their teeth.

And the silence was... sweet. It was the kind of silence that was gentle and calm to the ears- so much so even words found it slight to interrupt the comfort of the silence but eventually...

"I would ask how you found this place but everyone in France eventually finds a place to escape, no?"

Issa chuckled softly and shook her head. His confusion laces his soft handsome face and prompted her response. "Must you always feel to be so philosophical?"

"As a painter, it's kind of hard not to be."

"So...."

She ignored their close proximity because her skin yearned the gentle brush of his fingers on hers perhaps the tendency on his part reigns from his life of painting where, in this case, she was the canvas.

"if I was a priest, it would be hard to sin?"

His eyes widened as it has been doing since their rendezvous night began before he smirked a reply. "I suppose the irony is that it would be hard not to."

His thumb on her hand felt like the soothing draft crooning notes of jazz from buildings away, swaying her body restless. A soft rhythm ensued them and he took her in his arms with her permission to sway.

The lazy keys of a tired piano accompanied with a slumbering saxophone ushered Roman's touchy hands on the curves of her hips and like his paintings, he felt deeply felt coupled with her warmth in the cold midst of the night as she did too. Arms became tighter and lips nuzzled into naked necks.

And he hummed much to her surprise- tastefully.

He must not be human then.

The advanced french melodies slurred off his tongue slowly and hugged her ears tenderly. Goosebumps like sand coated her arms, when images of her being the tune sliding like silk off his tongue as his fingers waltzed delicate, rhythmic indents on her back, the sax indolently wooing them into the jaunty breeze.

"My home is close by." Following the wayward of her thoughts, Issa's words felt sure as she did not stutter. She mustered the courage for his electrifying thunder azure eyes- unsure and apprehensive.

"Ok." He held still just as her feet had decided its final trip.

"...but dance with me for a little while longer, yes?"

✿ - - - - ✿

the color maroon represents all things intense and passionate