|Love on the Paris Métro
Author: Wolf Blossom PM
I fell in love on the Paris Métro, with a man of many mysteries. One Shot, Dedicated to: Guardian of ShadowsRated: Fiction K - English - Romance/Friendship - Sakura K. & Syaoran L. - Words: 1,431 - Reviews: 26 - Favs: 45 - Follows: 4 - Published: 11-16-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7556435
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Love on the Paris Métro
I fell in love on the Paris Métro, with a man of many mysteries. One Shot
I didn't know how, or when, but I had become so attached to the man on the train; everyday at 8:47am at the Saint-Lazare station. My trip took me to the Opera House - as it was my place of employment, and every day I would see this man board the train and grab any available seat.
Once, he had a rose in his hand.
He never really spoke to anybody; many of the passengers engaging in small talk to pass time on their long journeys. I have to admit to being trapped in strenuous conversations that I did not want to be a participant of. That day I learned of a woman and her fight against breast cancer... Despite not wanting to have a conversation, I felt for her. I had lost my mother to a painful battle against breast cancer just less than eighteen years ago.
The train arrived at Saint-Lazare and he boarded, holding a tulip today. He took a seat by the window and stared out at the passing scenery. I don't know what it was about this man that enthralled me so, but something did and I was constantly working up the courage to approach him and say "Bonjour", hoping he would reply in a friendly fashion.
The train arrived at the Opera and I got up, ready to take on another day at work. As I passed him, I saw his head shift slightly and I knew he was looking at me. The school girl in me squealed in delight, but the composed adult that I was promptly left the métro. Tomorrow was another day that I would see him.
The trained pulled into Saint-Lazare but I paid no heed. My head was bobbing as I fought a losing battle against sleep. I hadn't had much rest last night because my roommate -also my cousin- was going through depressing relationship times and I had to be there for her. She never cries, so as soon as I see tears building up behind her eyelids, I am like butter in a hot pan: I melt right away.
Hence I did not sleep much because I was tending to issues that rank higher on the list of priorities than sleep does. I stifled a loud yawn and did not bother to see if that strange character I was drawn to had boarded the métro or not.
So it is understandable to say that I did not realize that the shoulder my head suddenly rested on was his...
I was softly shaken awake and my mind became abuzz with the current situation. I missed my stop!
"Mademoiselle," a soft voice addressed me. I looked and saw him... Mystery man! Blushing on embarrassment, I look around to figure out where I am. I heard his voice again: "The Opera is the next stop... I thought you might want to be woken up since you always disembark here."
My eyes widened as I stuttered out my appreciation. "Mer- merci beaucoup, monsieur." I whispered. He chuckled as he moved so that I could move past him to exit. I looked over my shoulder and saw he had a book on his hand today: Stalingrad.
Interesting, maybe he enjoys history?
"Quel est votre nom?" He suddenly asked right before I left. I turned around again and smiled at him.
"Sakura," I introduced myself, "et vous?"
I smiled at him. "Pleasure to meet you."
He nodded back at me. "The pleasure is all mine."
I was engrossed in a book the next day on the train ride. I heard the automated voice declare the station that we were approaching and I immediately slammed my book shut hearing it was his - Syaoran's stop. I had to bite my lip to hide my smile when I saw him board the train with two roses. He saw me; smiled, and proceeded to sit beside me.
"Bonjour," he greeted me. I returned the greeting with a smile of my own.
"Ça va?" He inquired and I nodded.
"Merci, et vous? Comment ça va…"
"Ehh.. Comme çi comme ça..."
I placed my hands on my book. "What's wrong?" My eyes widened when I saw him hand me a rose. Reluctantly, I took it.
"For you," he smiled, "I'm not strange, I assure you..."
I laughed. "Don't worry, you aren't strange at all." I ushered to the other flower. "And that is for?"
He looked down at it. "This? My father..." He said softly. I tilted my head and Syaoran looked up at me with a rue smile. "He died in the resistance."
My heart stilled. "I am so sorry..."
He waved his hand. "Don't worry, you wouldn't have known." He studied me briefly and had to fight the blush that was threatening to spread across my face. Syaoran was a lot more handsome up close than he was afar. His eyes were a deep chocolate brown and his hair, tousled messily over the nape of his neck, was a striking chestnut brown colour.
Syaoran was very good looking indeed.
I wanted to undo my doing of bringing back bad memories for him, so I offered to tell him that my mother had died of breast cancer. Tilting his head towards me, he had a weak twinkle in his eye. "Don't worry about it," he murmured. As the words escaped his lips, the automated voice announced that the train was going to arrive at the Opera.
Standing up, I bade farewell to him and left the train, sparing one last glance to the man left inside. He was staring out the window, distain etched across his face.
A man of many mysteries.
Days passed and our interactions would remain similar. We chitchatted about our lives, our family, our jobs—I discovered that he was once divorced. His ex-wife –whom he said was named Aiko- was pregnant at the time of the divorce but she hadn't let anybody know. After claiming her stake on his assets, she promptly aborted the baby.
Syaoran had found out after a letter from the doctor, their family doctor, was sent to his apartment saying that Aiko was due for a routine check up to make sure the pregnancy was going smoothly.
Aiko also had not notified the doctor of her abortion. Because of such a scandal, the court ordered her to return his assets back to him within a span of five years, if she liquidated it and had no cash to hand back. It was quite an intriguing story, as Syaoran told me bits and pieces day by day.
I told him about my family, my older brother Touya, my deceased mother, my retired father… nothing as crazy in my life as his, but he said he wanted some sense of normalcy. He was still stressed from the divorce and it happened a year ago.
Sometime during the week, Syaoran started bringing me a daily rose.
The encounters were magical, each day sitting beside him more amazing than the last. But never once did we exchange phone numbers or invited the other to go out for tea—it was mystical, what we shared. A connection formed on the métro.
It hasn't been long since we first started talking, perhaps a month or so? I do have strong feelings for him though, he was just so different.
On the day that marked the one month since we first started speaking, he entered the train looking brighter than usual. I smiled at him as he took his usual seat beside me and handed me the ritual rose. "Bonjour?" I laughed, questioningly. "What's gotten you so happy?"
He shrugged. "I finally found the courage to do something that I should've done a while ago?"
I tilted my head. "Oh?"
He grinned, looking at me. "Yeah."
"And what is that?"
I saw him visibly gulp before blurting out the question I was dying to hear: "May I take you out for dinner tonight?" He knew from the grin that spread across my face what my answer was going to be…
And to this very day, to everyone I say…
On that fateful day, I fell in love on the Paris Métro.
A short oneshot that kind of came to me while I was on the train to school today.