The story begins with a subtle notion of sadness and despiser. But God has other plans too. When two similar feelings meet and feel the same in the first glimpse, something magical happens. This story will not tell the his-story only. It will bring an innocent notion of good feelings indeed.
Once in a crisp spring morning, the enchanted streets of Paris awakened under a canvas of soft, pastel hues and the golden sunlight kissed the cobblestones, bringing them to life with a dance of shadows and delight.
Rose, a young woman little known about her heart but she feels it as tender as the petals of her namesake. She wandered through the charming lanes of this city of love searching for something unknown. She was a girl of simplicity never thought out of her boundaries. Her auburn hair flowed like a cascade of autumn leaves against her emerald dress, which swayed gently in the morning breeze. The city seemed to whisper to her, each corner holding a promise of magic and wonder. And magic can happen, it happens every now and then.
I know about Higson, a dreamy artist with a soul as deep as the Seine, watched from his atelier near Montmartre. His career was good but his mind was full of untouched novelty and a search of belongingness drive down him in despair. His cerulean eyes sparkled like the river under the midday Sun. His mind wanders through the mist of imagination and with each stroke of his brush, he painted his dreams on the canvas.
But this morning, the magical muse has another plan. He glimpsed at the street below and within no second, his thoughts were captured by the enchanting vision of Rose strolling below.
The paths were converged at a quaint café, where the aroma of freshly baked croissants mingled with the sweet scent of blooming jasmine. Two hearts Rose and Higson’s eyes met, and on that instant, time seemed to pause—a moment as delicate and fragile as a butterfly’s wing. Two single souls were sinking deep into oblivion of attraction and the muse of love smiles upon them.
“Bonjour!” Higson greeted abbruptly. His voice was as smooth as velvet. On this sudden voice, Rose felt a blush color on her cheeks, a shy smile blossoming on her lips. But she couldn’t say a word. She wanted to exchange a short greetings but nothing came out of her mouth. Only her eyes talked to Higson's bright ones. The city around them seemed to burst into a symphony of colors, each hue seemed like a testament to their budding connection.
Time goes on and the hearts chant chats with each other. They talked and talked for a long time. With the utmost blessing of the Cupid, they spent the day exploring Paris together and the city transformed into a storyteller, narrating their tale with every step they tokk. They wandered through the gardens of the Tuileries, where the flowers nodded in approval, and the fountains sang of the celestial love.
On a narrow street in Le Marais, they found a hidden bookstore, its musty scent evoking a sense of timelessness. Higson picked up an old volume of poetry and, with a playful smile, he read aloud to Rose. His words, wrapped in metaphors and similes, painted pictures in the air, making her heart flutter like a bird set free.
By the evening, the city wore a cloak of twilight, and the stars began their nightly vigil. And our lovebirds found themselves on the banks of the Seine, where the river with a gentle murmur, whispered secrets of eternal love.
“Rose!” Higson cried. His voice were trembling with emotion, “meeting you has been like finding the missing piece of my heart. You are the muse I’ve been searching for, the reason my soul sings.” His monologue of pure love, made the night air shimmer with magic. And rustic charm filled the ambience with the notion of bondage.
Rose’s eyes glistened with the tears of joy. “Higson, I think I feel the same. You’ve painted my world with colors I never knew existed." Higson nodded silently. "Being with you is like living in a dream, where every moment is a masterpiece," Rose added.
Their hearts mingled with a subtle joy; in a gentle kiss a promise forged of forever sealed under the watchful gaze of the stars. The night embraced them, wrapping them in a tapestry of love and hope.
As the dawn broke, the mighty city Paris awoke to a new day, the city’s heart beating in unison with their love. Rose and Higson, hand in hand, continued their journey, their love story etched into the streets of Paris—a testament to the magic of innocent love.
And the tale ended!
With💙
@chrysanthemum