There you were. Francis’s breathing instantly starting quickening and his flashy suit was making him feel constricted. The bouquet he was holding starting slipping from his now sweaty grasp so he laid them on the table he was waiting for you at. He watched as you turned a couple of times, your beautiful eyes searching for where he was.
He could have raised a hand to tell you he was there, but for a moment he was absolutely entranced by you. The way you looked for him, almost desperately when you still couldn’t find him, it set his body on fire.
He honestly had no idea why it was that you had such an effect on him, but he couldn’t deny what he felt. It was something much more than carnal lust, something infinitely more complex than the bodily desires he’d always experienced when around other women.
When he was around you he felt the inexplicable urge to hold you tightly against his chest, stroke your silken hair gently and count the beats of your heart. To kiss every inch of your stunning form, to love you thoroughly. So why was it that whenever he was around you, his mind span in circles and he couldn’t manage to string a coherent sentence together?
The happy, relieved look of recognition appeared on your face as you saw him and you quickly made your way to beside him, a wide grin on your face. “Hi!” You said in greeting, blinking when he stood up with a flushed face. “B-Bonjour,” he replied, bowing for you whilst taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss on the back of it.
His toes curled at the soft contact of your skin and his lips. Perhaps he lingered too long in that stance as you gently patted his shoulder. “Are you alright?” You asked, worry tingeing your tone. “Your face is red,” you commented, standing on your toes and pressing your hand to his forehead. His sapphire eyes widened.
Reaching up, he pulled down your hand and kissed the palm. Just seeing you makes my ‘eart beat faster. Francis opened his mouth to tell you the cheesy, but truthful line but he froze. His words seemed to catch in his throat and he hesitated greatly, not wanting to seem like an idiot by standing there and just gazing at you open-mouthed.
“Maybe you should sit down,” you murmured, guiding him to his seat and sitting down opposite him. “Are you sure you’re alright?” Now zhat you’re ‘ere my sweet, everyzhing is alright. Francis gulped to clear his throat and managed to mumble something no one could have understood.
Smiling sweetly and apologetically in return, you inclined towards him and shook your head. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t quite catch that Francis,” That melodious ring of his name made him snap out of his stupor and he shifted, trying to find something to do.
“Ah! ‘Ere,” he started when he remembered the flowers and he held them out for you. “Thank you very much,” you replied, holding the flowers carefully and gazing at them gratefully. “You shouldn’t have,” Ah, but ma petite even so, I would ‘ave. Not zhat zheir beauty is anywhere near yours zhough.
“Pas de problème,” he answered, mentally kicking himself for such a lame answer but cheering as he didn’t stutter. “So why.... did you call me out today?” You questioned, resting your cheek on your hand as your other hand ghosted over the pretty petals.
“I-I,” he began, his blush returning with a vengeance. “I-I just wanted to see you,” he murmured, fidgeting and pulling at his tie nervously. A small giggle let your lips and you smiled at him. “I wanted to see you as well,” you told him, a scattering of pink dusting your cheeks as you gazed at a flower between your fingers.
Your expression gave him a surge of confidence and he reached forward, plucking the flower from your grasp and tucking it behind your ear with a small lock of hair. “Stunning,” he cooed, letting his long fingers trace the line of your face before he pulled back.
You caught his hand as it fled across the table, holding it between your own and allowing your fingers to dance to the rhythm you hummed quietly under your breath. He chuckled and interlaced his fingers with yours, squeezing them resolutely.
“Ma chérie, I cannot tell you ‘ow ‘appy I am when I’m around you,” he said, his free hand cupping your cheek. Placing your own to keep it there, you smiled lovingly at him. “I like being around you too, you always make me laugh,” you muttered, moistening your lips slightly as you waited for him to answer.
“And ‘ow I love seeing you laugh. It’s as if zhe sun comes out from behind some clouds,” he murmured, his confidence coming back. That’s right! Tell her how you really feel! “My ‘eart beats so fast when I’m around you et I can’t help but smile when you look at me. I feel so silly at times, but-“
Placing a finger to his lips, you interrupted him. “That’s not silly at all,” He smiled warmly and kissed your fingertips.
“You’re so sweet,” he started, kissing down your fingers to your palm and then pressing a quick kiss on the inside of your wrist. “I suppose zhat’s zhe reason why I love you so much,” He froze as did you. Heat crawled over your skin and you stared at him. Did-did he really?
“Je suis desolé! I-I didn’t mean-“
Your heart sank. Was it just like always when he was surrounded by women? Did saying those words really come so easily to him? “Francis,” He glanced up at your sad tone with a worried set of his jaw.
“Do you mean it?” You asked, staring at your lap and disentangling your hands from his. “Oui. I do.” For once his voice didn’t waver.
Tears pooled in your eyes and you could sense him worriedly flail about as he tried to do something to cheer you up. “I’m sorry to spring zhis on you so suddenly, mon amour. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He whispered, pulling you to your feet and bringing you to sit on his lap, not caring at the strange looks you two obtained from the surrounding people. It was like no one else mattered, all Francis cared about was you and getting rid of your tears, so that there was space on your face for one of those cute smiles of yours.
“I hate seeing your tears,” he told you, wrapping his arms around you and rocking you as though you were an upset child. “It’s alright,” you sniffled. “I’m happy.” He smiled joyfully, resting his nose in the crook of your neck. “I am too,” he pressed a tentative kiss to your collarbone, making you squeak in surprise.
“Couldn’t stop myself,” he admitted sheepishly, brushing some hair from your face and simply gazing at you. “Here,” he placed your hand on his chest. You gazed at him in wonder, feeling his hammering heartbeat under your touch. “That’s how much I love you,” he murmured, leaning up to you to peck your lips chastely. That first kiss was one of many, that bore passion and love in many varying degrees.