-VI
Adrien would close his eyes and think of her, no matter who he had by his side, no matter who he had sweated at night, she was always in his mind.
He turned, sleepy and naked, near him was another woman. No, she was neither a popular nor a daughter of an innkeeper, she was a young countess bored with the life of court. He couldn't remember her name and how he slept with her.
And the sheet slipped her and discovered a lot of her body. She was different from the others, her skin was more candidate and cured, smooth, but nothing compared to the china of the market girl.
He would have wanted to smell the perfume of her skin, wake up and be intoxicated by the smell of sex with her, hear her voice warming his chest, like words were alone and, without fear, tell her how much love he felt, yelling it to the world, if necessary.
He stood up from the sumptuous bed, covered himself from the waist down with a blanket and went out the window. It was almost time to go.
Paris was always a show in the morning, a lot of busy people.
That was the florist who had the market counter.
He encouraged him, with his thought, to go set up, better than he'd never done, the feast that morning.
Wonder why everything brought him back to her, every thought was her, close his eyes and saw her in those colored flowers. But instead it was fine, he never wanted those thoughts to fly off his head, he didn't want to be left by her memory.
He wanted to know who she was, and that morning he would ask her, he would breathe a little longer that morning waiting to be chosen by her eyes, in the middle of all those people, he who was crazy who confessed her feelings.
He told her he wanted a life with her, wanted to see spring and winter days, days to remember and, why not, hard times and sleepless nights, maybe for a more serious fight, but then they'd come back to make love all night, every night.
He settled, as best he could, using the lady's toilet and ran out of them trying not to be too noticeable.
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He walked around the streets, looked like a hot kid, a jerk. That's what he was, a jerk.
How could he have been like this for a woman?
Without being seen, he stole an apple from the fruit vendor who was engaged to prepare the exhibition, he went off and thought it was as red as her lips. He dreamed of biting them like he bit the fruit.
God, he would have gone mad to want her but not have her.
He walked by the cloth bench, took one to clean his mouth and hands and put it back on the wooden shelf.
He can't believe how he always got away with it.
He came in front of the florist and he stood next to the wall to wait for her. In the distance, she heard a classical guitar. Delicated melody.
He saw her coming. Beautiful as it was, it didn't seem possible that among many people, she was heading right to him. Seeing her approach and being looked at by those eyes, it was like flying. Like when hed dreamed of her at night, when he said he loved her in the dark of her room and asked her not to leave him, even if love stories end and love goes by, she had to pretend that she could love him forever, because time would have passed, but they two wouldn't, they would never pass.
What an incredible, stupid romantic. He who had been giving himself a night's pleasure, who had two stared women in his life, but who didn't love, at least not like that. Could he be more hypocritical than that? He was talking about love, talking about her, like the most wonderful feelings, like he could really talk about it. And then? Then he was acting like a vile disin love with life. With alcohol and maidens always within their mouth. Yeah, but he would have given up everything for her.
<< Milady. >> He bowed her hand to kiss her knuckles. Antoinette smiled enchanted.
Today s he was wearing a pink powder dress and the red lips were gone. She seemed even more straight.
An angel. He thought the blond.
<< May I have your arm for a pleasant walk? >>
They wouldn't stop smiling, but he was incredibly similar to a cat who was a pimpy looking for attention.
The princess laid the gloved hand on the young man's arm who, in turn, laid the other hand on her to make it closer.
Antoinette knew how inconvenient a situation like this was for a princess, everything she was raised with was going to be blessed.
But he was so... so...
<< I dreamed of you tonight, or rather, don't get me wrong, I dream of you every night, I dream that... well... I needed to say your name, you know, but I didn't know, m'lady. How can I not know the name that brings my heart? >>
<
He hoped for the sincerity of denial.
<< Offer my love. >>
<
<< What do I do with honor if everything I believe in is trampled
on?>>
<
<< In the truth of my affection towards you. > He said more convinced than ever.
<
<
<
By pretending to be offended, he stood in front of her, and he didn't give up the touch of her arm, but he tried to look her in the eye, but he stood by her trying to hide her face behind the big fold of the hat again.
<< Milady, look at me, please. >>
He took the flap of the headgear that hid her face between his thumb and index, raised it and she felt attracted to those magnetic eyes that called her to turn, as soldiers for war were called. She couldn't refuse.
When their eyes looked at each other, a fraction of a second was enough to tie each other.
<
The girl was enchanted by such words and the way the young man had spoken them. So serious and solemn, as if he had to convince her to live.
She felt the desire to be closer to him.
He didn't know if She didn't want to answer him or if she just didn't know what to say.
She kept looking at him and getting closer. How could he tell her that a few more millimeters and he would have made Hera in some hidden anthroom in Paris? She was so elegant, woman of high-lineage, surely, she couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. Even before talking about sleep, She had no idea what he were talking about, which is why she wasn't even blushing.
And he thanked heaven it was like that, it meant her purity. No one's ever installed that kind of thought in her mind. He would have been too jealous of it.
Then he should have found out who he was and punched him.
He didn't know if to talk to her, to interrupt that intense moment, warning her he was imagining heaven.
But he just kept looking at her. She was so beautiful, she was confusing he, like when you look at the sun and then you see nothing else for a few seconds. But the heat he felt on his face in having her so close was comparable to the burning rays in the summer. A wish that burned him alive.
<< Please, it would be awfully inconvenient for you if I kissed you here and now. > Hardly swallowed.
It was absurd to have to push her away, even if only with the words that she, however, seemed to be not burdened.
He'd already imagine her head on his pillow and black hair like the night spread in a mess about it.
<
<< Because I wouldn't mind, m'lady. >>
He found the courage to touch her cheek with the index. That contact seemed to get a little bit of a jump and paint a little. He tried to find his own clear.
<< I'm sorry I... I don't know what got into me. I've been so unspeakable. I... I put you in trouble. >> She moved away a few steps from Adrien and gave him his back. He covered his face with his hands for embarrassment and shame.
<< What? >> He still stood by touching her back with his hand to call her back, but she didn't turn around, took off her finger cage.
She couldn't really feel guilty about him after taking him to heaven, she couldn't be ashamed of putting him in that kind of difficulty. What difficulty? The difficulty was to resist her, and he would never resist her.
He stood before her again and, kindly, he took her finite wrists in his hands to free her face and to look at her.
She seemed really upset.
<
He tried to make her feel better.
<< I can't. I'm sorry. >> She became divided by his grip, easily because he didn't squeeze so she wouldn't hurt.
<< What do you mean? >>
Was it distressing the emotion that gave voice to words and sense to his eyes?
< She turned ready to leave but he blocked her hand off.
<
Her eyes looked like she was poisoning the poison he should have been drinking.
It was ridiculous to let her get away from her arms.
<< Don't look at me with those eyes, I beg you. >>
<< I couldn't look at you any other way now. Tell me what's bothering you, if it's just what happened, you don't have to worry.>>
She seemed to calm down, just by bit.
He took the glove off her hand, just so he could touch her smooth skin and create more intimate contact. He caressed her palm with his fingertips, almost like worshipping her. He was intimidated, too. He didn't know what it would do to intertwist their fingers.
But she didn't make him do it. She took her hand back to her chest and tried to hide the chills.
<< I'm promised to another man. > > She said all by breath with her eyes on the ground.
Were she afraid of disappointment in his eyes?