<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 22px"><span style="font-family:Homemade Apple">Strangers Again</span></span>​</div><div style="margin: auto; overflow: visible; max-width: 60%; font-family: Bookman; text-align: justify"><br/>
<div class="bbm_float fleft" style="float:left;margin:0 10px 5px 0">
<div class="bbImageWrapper lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.postimg.cc%2FHL93tzHY%2Fak-camilla1-6.jpg&amp;hash=687534a7a93d15cdb92dcbce6e84c480" title="ak-camilla1-6.jpg">
<img alt="ak-camilla1-6.jpg" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.postimg.cc%2FHL93tzHY%2Fak-camilla1-6.jpg&amp;hash=687534a7a93d15cdb92dcbce6e84c480" data-url="https://i.postimg.cc/HL93tzHY/ak-camilla1-6.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" style="" title="" width=""/>
<noscript><img alt="ak-camilla1-6.jpg" class="bbImage" data-url="https://i.postimg.cc/HL93tzHY/ak-camilla1-6.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.postimg.cc%2FHL93tzHY%2Fak-camilla1-6.jpg&amp;hash=687534a7a93d15cdb92dcbce6e84c480" style="" title="" width=""/></noscript>
</div>
</div>Her tongue delicately ran along the roof of her mouth as the complex notes of her dessert filled her senses with sweet cocoa goodness. The cake was moist; and as most quality chocolates, it melted on the body of her tongue. It wasn’t overly rich as she had expected which made it all the more satisfying. Savoring the last bite, she placed her fork down on her finished plate and took a last sip of her tea to wash all the sweetness down. The waiter came shortly after, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(230, 230, 230)">“Would you like anything else, Mademoiselle?”</span> His thick French accent twisted his every syllable as they reached her ears—she could sit there for hours just listening to him speak. A gentle smile appeared on her lips as she sucked on them, still able to taste the chocolate.<br/>
<br/>
<b>“No, everything was great. Thank you,”</b> she reached into her purse and pulled out her credit card. Handing it over to him, he nodded his head and excused himself. Camilla turned her attention back on the romantic view and had seen the weather picking up; snowflakes grew larger as they overturned the wind to fall aimlessly around the city. Gathering her belongings, she wrapped herself in her winter coat and prepared herself for the harshness of winter that waited patiently outside. There weren’t any scheduled plans tonight, but merely thought to spend the night out and to be able to observe Paris in solitude. The waiter returned, handing her card and receipt; and with a quick signature, she nodded once more to him as she made sure to tip him extra. <b>“Excellent service and food, merci,”</b> placing her card back into her purse, the young twenty-seven year old woman rose from her seat as her waiter escorted her out the door.<br/>
<br/>
With her stomach filled with sweet warmth, her adventure continued. Two doormen opened the double doors for her one at a time as she sauntered outside in her black-heeled boots. Tugging her coat closer to her chest, she was finally greeted with a harsh caress of cold against her cheeks as it swirled around her petite form, hugging her close. The brisk weather seeped into the woven fabric of her coat and tickled her skin; nudging a reminder to keep warm during these cold nights. Looking around the streets, she saw a few people tucked closely together and sharing their body heat with another. Others quickly ran across the roads to reach their destination and escape the flurries of snow as they made their mark on the ground. Choosing a direction, she made sure to hug her torso and keep her belongings tight to her body; there were plenty of pick pocketers in the area and their targets usually were tourists. Not wanting any unwanted disturbances to ruin her night, the brunette played it street safe.<br/>
<br/>
Camilla, once in a while, looked up at the skies and it was difficult to see the stars. There were many lights illuminating the town and with falling snow, she knew it would be hard to see any of them twinkling above her. Walking with confident strides, she walked on the sidewalk with no particular destination other than to drink everything in. She had paused her life back in Chicago where she had explained to her boss that she needed a break. Unfortunately, they couldn’t offer her a remote position and was forced to resign. This trip to Paris was important to her and she needed this time to contemplate about her life—no matter how long it took. If she needed to find a job here, she would choose one with flexible hours and a remote position. This way, wherever her life decided to take her, she would be able to move freely without any ties. She wouldn’t be bound or anchored to anything. A deep sigh left her lips as a cloud of vapor pushed through into the air while her footsteps left a mark against the pallid snow. Perhaps the reason why she chose Paris during this time of year was because of the lack of tourists and couples that would flock here.<br/>
<br/>
She thought she would be able to escape it all and live in her own little bubble. Nearing a fountain, she stood close to it; watching the water push through the tip and rush through the tiers before pouring into the circular base. Coins glistened beneath the surface as many people had wished their deepest desires into a fountain that was supposedly able to grant some of them. It was the same belief system as if Santa Claus was real. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders as one hand slid down her coat pocket for some loose change. Her fingertips grazed a smooth yet embossed surface of a coin and judging by the feel of it, she had retrieved a quarter. Mesmerized by the flow of water against the winter atmosphere, she allowed herself a moment. Closing her eyes, she tucked the coin into the palm of her hand and gently secured it in her fist. As she carefully whispered her wish and hoping for it to manifest in real life, she listened to her surroundings as things seemed peaceful; the same kind of peace she found herself back at the café nook.<br/>
<br/>
Without opening her eyes, she flipped the coin toward the fountain and hoped to hear a faint splash. Fluttering her eyes open in confusion, she hadn’t heard her coin reach the water and wondered if she had miscalculated her throw. Lips parted in bewilderment as her brows furrowed in disbelief at the young man that stood on the edge of the fountain; his hand hanging onto something shiny. <b>“Hey! Is that my coin!?”</b><br/>
<br/>
The man smirked at her and laughed mockingly before twirling around on the ledge, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(230, 230, 230)">“Oh! A foreigner! Y’know Miss, you should know better than to throw money around.” </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)">His accent was different and had an outlandish twang to it.</span><br/>
<br/>
<b>“I beg your pardon! I am not—I’m wishing at a fountain!”</b><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(230, 230, 230)">“Oh, yes well—I’m afraid to say, your wish is <i>never</i> going to come true. I’ve caught it, you see? And saving it rather than letting it rot at the bottom of a fountain sounds better, don’t you think?”</span><br/>
<br/>
<b>“I—ah, uhm… Well yes. I suppose that’s true,”</b> he had completely caught her off guard with that remark and she hadn’t had one of these moments unless it was with Arthur. Studying his features with her eyes, she merely watched him as he placed one foot out and leaned back to take a bow.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(230, 230, 230)">“I’m letting you off easy, love. Next time, think twice, yeah?”</span><br/>
<br/>
Speechless, she watched him run off into the distance as his laugh echoed through the streets. She couldn’t help but smile and chuckle along with him as she couldn’t believe her luck. Maybe her wish wasn’t meant to be made in Paris or at this very moment. Shaking her head, she walked in the opposite direction and took a last look at the fountain.</div><div style="margin: auto; overflow: visible; max-width: 60%; font-family: Bookman; text-align: justify"><br/>
<fieldset class="ctaBbcodeFieldset"><legend class="ctaBbcodeLegend">‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎· •  ⋄ ‎‏‏‎°  ⋆‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎</legend>‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎<i>for adnauseum; 1175 words</i></fieldset></div>