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Lilac Wine. [ rick x eri ]

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Lilac Wine. [ rick x eri ]

Post by Eri » Sat Sep 08, 2018 7:42 pm

In the blue smoke, between a piano key and the drop of a voice, I watched as shadows dripped over your shoulders, reluctant to let you go and in that moment, the words slipped from my lips. Underneath the hot white lights, surrounded by faceless gods in this smoky gin joint, air shot through my lungs. But darling, a girl like me doesn’t cry.

Don’t you remember?

Not tonight, and not like this.

The most fleeting of looks—my pianist waited, gracefully, for me to resume the song and I did but remind me, Alessandro, of how you stood before me, that night in Macau.


When I met you, I was alone.

I was often alone, but this was a little different. Cozy between a cloud of lavender and a narrow pane of glass, my champagne made good friends with the summer breeze. It was July, and beneath a large hat and oversized sunglasses, I thought myself perfectly content, balancing delicately on the brim of immortality. I was invincible in summer, left behind tearstained evenings in winter. But you swept by me, a silent thunder-cloud, and at the time, I did not know you would dismember my life.

But I digress.

It was a beautiful summer day in Paris, wasn’t it, darling? I locked eyes with you, and I knew I was positively undone.


I knew happiness back then and her name was Lilla. I remember how she felt wrapped around my neck, her breath fragrant and sweet. Her eyes pools of pristine water, her smile an autumn breeze. When she told me to follow her to Paris, I couldn’t resist, I didn’t want to resist. I left my life and my pain in Italy behind, promising myself I would make a new life with her in La Ville Lumière. How ironic that she would fall ill on our arrival at the tail end of summer, her pink lips in a constant pout when I reminded her she had to stay in bed. She pleaded with me to at least go out, explore the city, she couldn’t stand the idea of me being locked in with her at the beginning of our greatest adventure. I agreed, if only to bring back wine and fresh Parisian bread in hopes of bringing a smile to her face.

I headed out into the city, already in love with it because she loved it so dearly. I walked the streets with a curious eye until I saw it; the café with her namesake, La Closerie des Lilas. You were already there, a rose among a sea of grass, wearing your thorns proudly. Inconsiderately, I smiled when our eyes met. I couldn’t help it, there was a truth in your eyes, a truth I knew and one Lilla couldn’t possibly hope to understand, which was another reason I loved her. You smiled back at me, a smile that would have melted most men, but I saw it for what it really was; a greeting to someone who shared a similar scar that life had given us. I ignored all the free tables available and made my way to yours, La Vie en rose playing on an old radio by the entrance of the café.

“Cappuccino, per favore,” I called to the waiter without breaking my gaze with you.

I leaned into my chair and pulled out a cigarette, there was too much going on in my mind and I wanted to only focus on you. I offered you one, simply raising an eyebrow, no words yet exchanged between us.


La Ville Lumière.

In this city, on a day like today, anything was possible. You were possible, a manifestation of my childhood dreams and dreariest nightmares. You looked like a prince and smiled like a scoundrel. It wasn’t very fair.

You offered me a cigarette and I obliged, leaning forward, lashes lowered as you lit me for the first time. I noted your split-second glance at my lips, suddenly self-conscious. But the feeling was soon gone—forced, shame never holds me for long—and I exhaled before reaching for the ashtray.

I picked up my fork, sliced a tiny bit of crêpes suzette, offered you a bite.

“They’re very good,” I said, and I wasn’t quite sure why it hurt a little, to look at you.

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