At the waterfall, Frank asked Svetlana if she wanted to take pictures, once again. She had accepted, with a gesture of the head. Her eyes shone like a thousand stars together. Like a little girl, she ran to get in position in front of the waterfall, came back to leave her bag at Franks feet, and then ran back to pose. When the fun of taking pictures was over, Frank returned the camera to its owner. In return, she had given him her hand again. They had played this innocent and naive game at two other places in the park. A hunger for each other started to grow within them.
While sinking into a remote area of the park overlooking the small Paris belt and where some fruit trees were hidden, they had crossed several couples kissing. They smiled, a little embarrassed by the situation. The two watched each other, lowering their heads Deep down, they were waiting for the same exchange. Being in that area was the perfect opportunity to make this sweet exchange happen, except that Frank had not felt the click, blocked by a certain shyness. He had preferred not to brutally provoke this act. He wanted it would happen as naturally as possible.
It was now evening. The cold had begun to spread. On an isolated dirt road, Frank had asked Svetlana if she would have dinner with him. Surprised by this unexpected proposal, she had hesitated about the answer to give. Was she presentable? What was this man really looking for? An embarrassing procrastination had taken place. This hesitation had astonished Frank. He wondered. Did he just start a new speed too quickly, at the risk of destroying the entire clutch? He had supposed she would have said yes, without flinching. What was holding her back? She who had not let go of his hand in the afternoon!
Suddenly, Svetlana replied, Okay! A simple word that was bitterly out of her mouth as a radical decision that would have impacted the rest of her life
Frank felt relieved. A smile had swept across his face. They had then slipped out of the park and strolled down the adjoining sidewalk. Their hands did not separate once. They caressed each others fingers more intensively, generously. Their palms had established a sense of sensuality between them.
On the way, they had stopped for the first time, for some useless reason since they were already talking. The true purpose of this halt was instinctive. The two lovebirds found themselves eye to eye. Slowly, Franks gaze lowered, madly seduced by the gaze of the goddess in front of him. Oh yes, Svetlana wanted the same thing as Frank! She no longer waited for him to bravely prove his burning desire for her.
Feeling convinced and confident, Frank drew closer to her face. He wanted to taste the sweetness of her lips that strut boldly a few inches from his. Feeling certain in what was about to happen, Svetlana bit her lower lip, instinctively, offering the flowering of a small scarlet sting. Brain overload! Franks body had deviated from the initial target, caught in an unspeakable panic. He stayed at a distance from her, staring at the blue glint of Svetlanas intrigued vision that wondered how and why he had suddenly abandoned aborted the mission. Turning his eyes away, dismissed by his own instincts, he took hold of her hand to continue their walk.
Frank tried to figure out what had caused that cut on her lip. Did she want him so badly? His quick attempt had ended in failure. He had deflated at the last second, a few inches from the mouth that he was lusting after and that was taunting him. It was the golden opportunity he had been hoping for since the second he had gripped her fingers. Yet still, he had allowed that important moment to bypass them, that important move that makes it possible to move forward, because he would be freed from the essential act, like an invitation card offered that gives access to all the grandeur of a passion in the making: a love story could begin. Why is the first kiss always so complicated? Why does it cause so much apprehension, even when both parties knew that they wanted it? Just as he perceives the moment when her lips are willing to unite with his, he could feel that burning body snuggle between his arms.
Any man would have jumped at the chance to feel these plump, sparkling, perfectly hydrated lips against theirs. Frank had to taste them before the end of the night. He wanted her badly and swore to himself that he would not let her go as freely as she had come, knowing fully well that he might not see her again if he did not do what he had to. He felt that he had to place his unforgettable signature as a seal on their date.
They had taken the road towards a restaurant that would rise up by chance in front of them. Frank was completely lost in a neighbourhood he did not know. They were walking without any sense of direction.
They stopped a second time, with the same intentions. They examined each other closely. Desires intensified. They mentally and silently devoured each other. Neither of them had dared to cross this indescribable invisible barrier. There were only a few inches separating them from a sentimental relationship. It was so stupid! Frank knew that Svetlana would not make the first move. It was up to him to step up, to prove to her that he had the guts to kiss her to testify to this natural appetite between two beings who like each other and attract each other, irresistibly.
Frank had felt a hesitation similar to the first attempt. They started back walking What was happening? Frank felt it, Svetlana was waiting for nothing but his temerity. Where was it? He had missed two excellent opportunities. The third one had to be a home run. Otherwise, he could say goodbye to the beautiful Svetlana: she would not want to hear from this incompetent clown after that.
He was attracted to everything about her: her body, her mannerisms, her personality. With her, a sense of trust put him at ease. So what was he afraid of? Frank had decided to postpone his final attempt till the very end of the night, in order to avoid any further pathetic moves. After having dinner and especially after throwing back a few drinks, he would definitely have more courage for it.
After a while, an Indian restaurant appeared in front of them. Franks wallet would have appreciated this place but Svetlana did not seem too excited about eating there. More than that, the ambiance was nothing romantic. They continued wandering around until they had come across a more animated area. Around the square were several coffee shops. The first one they had gone to was closed for the night. The manager was very apologetic. They had then crossed the street to enter the cafe on the opposite side. From the outside it was not much of a looker, but the interior was very chic. A little too chic Frank knew for sure that the bill would be damn high. But who cared! This woman who was accompanying him was well worth a financial effort. He did not plan on skimping on their short night out. Not at all! His goal was to completely win her over and make her his next companion.
A waitress had seated them in a quiet and cozy corner. The table was surrounded by two leather seats. They had talked, they ordered, ate and drank. The attraction between these two was intense: their fingers intertwined, soft glances met with jovial smiles and sweet talk, and their hearts were beating hard and fast. The charm worked perfectly, within the rules of the art.
Once the hefty bill was taken care of, they had gone in search of a metro station. Svetlana lived in Montparnasse so they had taken the same line. Frank took advantage of that by walking her home.
Svetlana lived in a hostel for young workers. The room was tiny. The rent, although high for a single room, was not too bad for being in the city. In front of the gate of the building, Frank had spoken up first saying, I had a great time and I
A waitress had seated them in a quiet and cozy corner. The table was surrounded by two leather seats. They had talked, they ordered, ate and drank. The attraction between these two was intense: their fingers intertwined, soft glances met with jovial smiles and sweet talk, and their hearts were beating hard and fast. The charm worked perfectly, within the rules of the art.
Once the hefty bill was taken care of, they had gone in search of a metro station. Svetlana lived in Montparnasse so they had taken the same line. Frank took advantage of that by walking her home.
Svetlana lived in a hostel for young workers. The room was tiny. The rent, although high for a single room, was not too bad for being in the city. In front of the gate of the building, Frank had spoken up first saying, I had a great time and I
He had not had time to finish his sentence before their lips had drawn close and collided. They had uncontrollably been drawn to each other. There, at that precise moment, was the dawn of a situation that would fire up the days that followed.
Their tongues had hit it off well. They exchanged saliva. Both bodies had merged. Through this kiss a lot of tenderness was exchanged, in a form of exquisite sweetness that had diluted slowly, releasing a tangy taste. After having desired it so much, this moment was like a deliverance for both of them.
Quite a few times, Svetlana told him that she had to go inside. On weekdays, the guard closes the doors at one oclock in the morning. On the weekends, they stayed open until two oclock but they were quickly approaching that time. Frank did not want to let go. Svetlana did not want to go home. The moment of grace was prolonged.
Before the final unravelling of their arms and lips for the night, Svetlana had asked Frank when they could see each other again. The next day she had to leave to visit Brussels. She would not come back until Tuesday evening. Since her train ride was in the evening, Frank had proposed to accompany her to the station. He would come and pick her up here as soon as he finished his workday. Svetlanas eyes had answered for her mouth and she smiled, before verbally confirming the next days rendez-vous. They had kissed one last time.
As for Frank, he would begin a job as a caretaker-concierge in a building for three weeks. It was a job that did not give him any satisfaction. Cleaning the dirt and taking out the garbage did not allow him to flourish as he wanted. Only the salary was okay, thanks to a complementary end-of-contract bonus which made up for any benefit that an appointed caretaker could find in this job, since there is usually low-cost, almost free accommodation provided. In the heart of Paris, and for some residences, this privilege is a luxury; a form of decency compared to how astronomically high rent is in this bougie town. An undeniable attraction for many owners.
However, this bonus no longer exists. It was cut by a government that passed new legislation and believed that these peoplethese substitutes, these precarious job-workersearned too much money, plunging them even more into a financial imbalance. From that point on there is no longer a financial motivation; all that remains is a form of disgust, both toward the government that oppresses the proletarian and acts only in the interest of the highest spheres of finance of which it is fully dependentdeliberate slave limitand towards work also when it comes into conflict with our deepest aspirations. By a policy of excessive austerity, our leaders have legitimized and anchored in our minds that unreasonable practices are developing. No need to talk about the demotivation of an unemployed person faced with a job proposal with a pay that skates around minimum wage. Who can survive living in Paris with a thousand euros net per month? The monthly rent of a decent studio is at least seven hundred euros. Most often, it flirts at around eight hundred. The calculation is fast and simple. A meagre income cannot offer an honest living. That is just salary to barely survive.
The life of a human being does not mean much. What matters is amassing riches If a commoner ends up on the streets or dies of starvation, it did not really matter When one is nothing, it is better to return to nothing without being noticed Politicians are the friends of the wealthy. Hand in hand, they seek not a single not a single interest of the people. They show that they are only capable of making big, beautiful speeches to further lull the masses who begin to stir, to be indignant, to revolt even. At best, they manage to feel a little disdain for the populace. Not much else. They are far too busy negotiating arms deals or starting a new war. Citizens join forces, shouting Stop! They dont listen and they ignore the roaring crowds. The gap between government disconnected from social realities and the population is irreparable. These leaders are our ruin. They are responsible for all the misery a country suffers.
Frank had watched the young woman enter the building. She officially became his new girlfriend. Then he had gone in the direction of his home, a thirty-minute walk to Denfert-Rochereau. On the way, he had a smile on his face, eyes that sparkled and the mind that went over the evening they had just shared. The next day, an entirely different matter awaited Frank. He had to get up early, roll up his sleeves and slog without intensity, passion, or brilliance; like a robot, a living dead.
Svetlana had just spent an exceptional day like she had rarely experienced before. She had not gotten to know many boys yet. Her experiences had all been short-lived. She naturally placed a sweet hope in this encounter. What is more romantic than two people who were brought up in two very distinct universes that happen to find each other? Frank had managed to seduce her with his simplicity, his kindness and his listening skills. He was sincerely interested in her. Even before their first kiss, Svetlana had noticed that she already meant something to him. She had also been charmed by his artistic side. An artist a little lost in his dreams and his life, but an original that you dont come across every day.
In her bed, tracing her fingers along her lips, Svetlana ran through the days events in her mind, noting the effect they had on her. She wondered why her previous encounters had not sparked such intense desire. What was different about this Frenchman, though so plain and ordinary at first sight? Frank was that typical slender young man with an ordinary face and short brown hair that you could come across in every city. A beard a few days old hid slightly hollowed cheeks, while giving him that dilettante or bohemian look as the last shave was more or less spaced, far from the normative and angelic look of a bureaucrat with smooth skin. Frank had been so kind and considerate to her that Svetlana could only succumb. Did she come to meet a guy who would fulfil her and who would make her discover new and beautiful feelings? The man who would leave a mark on her life? The one she would really fall in love with? Svetlana felt a great need to see him again quickly to reassure herself in what she felt. She was also eager to be in his arms. She began to dream and hope Svetlana had never really loved. Secretly, she yearned for what could come of this alchemy. Why not now? Was it risky to go headlong with a Frenchman living more than seven thousand kilometres from her home? Would she crash into a wall, with no chance of recovering? This overflow of questions had her head spinning. She could not sleep. Although internally agitated, she felt serene. No man had ever seduced her like that and sparked so much desire in one day. Luck was definitely on her side. At that moment, Svetlana sensed that this time it would be different from her previous relationships.