Page 44 of The Stipulation
“Wow! Look at the use of light here,” I murmur. “Amazing, how it guides your eye to the focal point. The artist wants us to follow the story, not just stare at the paint. Amazing. Just amazing.”
Axel hums appreciatively, his arm brushing mine as we move. “I like that you notice things. Most people just stand there quietly, then move on.”
“You mean, most people haven’t had the chance to get a trained eye,” I reply with mock pride. “I’m basically saving you from cultural ignorance.”
He grins. “I’ll try not to be offended by that.”
I laugh, throwing him a playful glance. “Oh, don’t be. I’m very picky about who I choose to educate. You should be flattered.”
“Who knew you were entertaining and educational?” he says smoothly.
The joking and soft laughter continue, as we drift from gallery to gallery, our steps unhurried, our conversation effortless. He listens as I talk about the pieces. Occasionally, he teases me, and at other times he challenges my points, and I find myself leaning into him more than I thought possible. Every brush of his arm, every shared glance feels electric and full of meaning. Eventually, the hunger I’ve been ignoring nudges me as we leave one gallery.
“I think we should eat,” I declare, glancing around. “There should be a café somewhere.”
Axel’s eyes light up. “Yes. I’m starving.”
The café is tucked away behind a small gallery, intimate and warm, with sunlight spilling over the polished floor through the tall windows. Wooden tables and chairs give it a cozy, inviting feel. The scent of freshly baked pastries mingles with the smell of roasted coffee beans and makes my stomach growl. I take a deep breath, letting it all wash over me.
We settle into a small table by the window, and I watch as waiters move gracefully between the tables, balancing trays of croissants and café au lait. Axel leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the table, and studies me as I scan the menu.
“What’s catching your eye?” he asks, his eyes on me.
I grin. “Everything. But I think I’ll have a croissant. A chocolate one. And a cappuccino. You?”
He glances at the menu briefly, then back at me. “Black coffee and the largest ham baguette they have. Straightforward. And I might steal a bite of your chocolate croissant when you’re not looking.”
“Oh, you might?” I say, and I lean in, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a risky proposition, Axel.”
He grins, eyes locking with mine. “I like risk.”
When the food arrives, we dig in, savoring every bite. The croissant is flaky and buttery, the chocolate rich and indulgent. My cappuccino is frothy, and the hint of cocoa on top is a small delight. Axel’s coffee steams beside him, dark and strong, just like him. We talk between bites, continuing our dance of teasing and flirtation, a dance I never dreamed I would have with Axel.
“You know,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “You’re making this look far too easy. This wandering around a museum, eating pastries, laughing.”
“Maybe I was Parisian in a past life,” I say.
“Or maybe you’re just a dangerous minx who can turn her hand to anything.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Dangerous? Me? You’re the one who brought me here and now has me flirting with you in public. That’s dangerous.”
He tilts his head, a slow, deliberate smile spreading. “Touché. But you have to admit flirting with me is kinda fun, isn’t it?”
“Only,” I hide a grin behind my coffee cup. “If you admit that you’re infuriatingly smug.”
“Infuriatingly smug?” He feigns hurt, placing a hand over his chest. “I thought I was doing very well in the charming department.”
“You are,” I concede, my eyes sparkling. “Insufferably charming. But don’t let it go to your head.”
Our laughter bubbles easily. For a while, it’s just us, enjoying the quiet thrill of being in Paris together and the gentle current of something more flowing between us. Finally, we set down our cups, the last sips of coffee gone, and even crumbs cleared from our plates. I stretch my arms lazily, excitement rising in me again.
“Are you ready to continue?” I ask, my voice full of energy.
Axel stands up, brushing off his jeans although there’s nothing on them, a slow smile on his face. “Absolutely. Lead the way, my enthusiastic guide.”
I laugh, linking my arm through his as we step out of the café and back into the seemingly endless galleries. The late morning sun casts a warm glow through the tall windows. The day is still young, and there’s so much more to explore. And somehow, I know that with Axel by my side, every moment will feel just a little more electric, a little more alive.
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