Foto bij 801. - Lucien

We're at the edge of Lac Inférieur, partly hidden by the trunk and leaves of a weeping willow so large it must have been even longer than the restaurant has been. I'm leaning back against the trunk with my legs crossed; Emma lays stretched out before me with her head in my lap. She holds her hand out demandingly for the cigarette between my fingers, because it's the last one and neither of us could be bothered to run to the bodega on the other side of the pond, so now we share this one. I take another drag and then hand it to her. Because she's laying down, the necklace with her ring on it has slid up and it now lays visible on her chest.
"Would you really get married in France?" I ask softly as I weave a strand of her hair between my fingers. She slowly exhales the smoke, looking thoughtful.
"I don't know. This place is wonderful, especially with all those memories attached." She doesn't say the 'but', but it looms in the air.
"Hoisting your family over would be quite the undertaking."
She nods, holding out the cigarette for me so I can have the last drag. "I can't imagine Phoebe on a plane... And I know you're going to offer, but my parents aren't going to easily accept an all-expenses paid trip, I don't think."
"Well... We don't have to decide right away, do we?" I stub out the cigarette and put it back in its package to dispose of later. "We've still got a while to look at places back in Scotland as well."
"Do we?" Emma tips head back so she can look at me. It gives her smile a twisted edge, and I chuckle.
"Are you planning to get married next week?"
"Well, not that quickly... But maybe next month."
Now I laugh, shaking my head. With my hands free I've gone back to playing with her hair. "I suppose these kinds of things will be a regular subject now, huh?"
"Yes." She sounds pleased about it, and that's all that's needed to make me feel the same way. "Have you thought about the wedding at all? You've known for nearly a year..."
"Not a whole lot." I shake my head. "Mostly about the proposal and how terrified I was you were going to say no. The wedding was much too far away."
"I forgot you don't plan ahead." Her eyes flutter close when my nails scratch over a part of her scalp I know to be sensitive. "But nothing at all? Do I have to plan this entire thing by my own?"
"I'll have plenty of opinions once we start planning." I promise with another chuckle. "As long as the people I love most are there..." As I say the sentence, a wave of hesitation hits me. Emma notices; her eyes blink back open and she looks up at me curiously for me to elaborate. "Well... It's not like I live in small circles exactly, do I? I know that people I love most is about a very select group, but..." I let the end of that sentence hang in the air, because it entails so many things. While my social media life as been on the back burner ever since I got back into law school, I still do events or photoshoots or interviews when I can. I still make videos bi-weekly with Brie. Much of my life is shown online, visible to millions of followers. My chosen family may be small, my social group surely isn't. And once word of the wedding comes out... People will want to see.
"Well," Emma breathes after a moment of silence. "Luckily we've still got a while. But you make a valid point."
"Thanks, I try to make at least one of those a day."
She laughs, and with it the built-up tension shatters and dissapates into the gentle spring-breeze. "We'll figure something out. One day at a time."
"An excellent plan." I smile and lean forward, capturing her lips in a kiss. In this position, the ring dangles from her neck - catching the light in blinding flashes, grabbing for the attention it deserves. Emma shivers when I gently tuck it back into her shirt without breaking the kiss.
"Can't have anyone in on the secret." I whisper. She smiles, following me when I lean back so the kiss still doesn't get broken. But then someone howls at us from the path, and we both burst out laughing.
"He's just jealous." Emma says, giving me a quick peck before getting to her feet and holding her hand out to me. "Now come on, it's time for lunch."
"Wonderful! I'm starving."
      We stroll through the city until our feet can't carry us anymore. We visit basic touristy places and I tell Emma more stories of my childhood. I show her my old elementary school that is still open, but no longer run by nuns.
"My grandparents from my father's side were devout catholics." I chuckle as Emma demands an explanation. "I wasn't really raised into any religion, but whenever they got the chance they'd try to get God's word to stick."
"Did it?"
"Are you really asking me that, knowing all the sinful things I've done?" I smirk, and she laughs. Our hands swinging between us we continue down the street, to a small restaurant that came strongly recommended online, because despite being exhausted, neither of us is ready for the day to end.
"Are they still alive? Your grandparents, I mean." Emma asks after a moment. I shake my head.
"They both died a couple of months before we met. But, as is a running theme in the Du C-family, I wasn't awfully close to them."
"And your mother's side?"
"I'm... not sure, actually; I haven't spoken to them in over a decade. They still lived in Spain, and after my mother died the contact quickly fizzled."
Emma's head tips at that, and a curious furrow in her brow forms. "Still in Spain?"
I feel my brows raise. "Don't tell me I never mentioned my mother's from Spain?"
"I mean, it sounds familiar, but I think I always just kind of assumed she was of Spanish descent... Not actually Spanish."
"She was." I smile. "Moved here to work in the Louvre, and soon after that she met my father and she never left again. I suppose moving for love runs in the family."

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