Roman's POV:

I sat down and looked out the window at the beautiful city of Paris. How I had gotten here was a blur, but life has always moved too quickly for me to keep up with. It felt like a few months ago I had been studying theatre and art at SCAD in Georgia; that's exactly where I was actually. I had applied to be part of the abroad program they offered to study in France for a semester. Since it was my semester of my last year of college and I had been planning to live outside of the US for years, I figured it would be a good way to transition into living in France.

"Comment puis-je vous aider?"

I snapped out of my thoughts by a server's voice. I looked up at the rather attractive waiter to find myself lost for words. His face held a small smile and his eyes shimmered as though someone had poured liquid dark chocolate into his irises. It took the server speaking again to realize I was staring at him.

"Euh monsieur? Est-ce que tu vas bien?" he asked, chuckling a little nervously.

I blinked a couple times, trying to collect myself. My cheeks warmed as the embarrassment set in. It wasn't like me to get flustered, but sometimes my artistic mindset would bleed into my regular thinking, making for some cheesy and fanciful thoughts. "Parlez vous anglais?" I asked, wondering if he could speak English.

He made a pinching motion with his hand. "Little," he replied. "Not good though... monsieur, your order?"

"Pardon moi," I apologized.

I had completely forgotten that this was a cafe and the man was meant to be taking my order. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind as he offered a small smile. "Ce n'est pas un problème, may I have your order, monsieur?"

What did I even want to order? I hadn't thought about it since sitting down and now I felt like an idiot. I glanced at the man serving me and then smiled, getting an idea. "Je voudrais deux chocolats chauds s'il vous plaît," I said, holding up a hand to show two fingers.

The man raised an eyebrow as he wrote down my order. "Un moment," he replied with a nod.

I smiled to myself as I watched him walk away. He was really handsome. His name tag had read 'Virgil', but with his limited English and roughness with French, I hadn't been able to ask him if I could call him that. I hoped that he would agree to my plan because I wanted to get to know him.

A few minutes later, the man was walking back with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. He turned to walk away, but I stopped him. "C'est pour vous," I said, gesturing to the second hot chocolate.

Virgil gave me a curious look before walking over to the counter where another server was waiting for customers to come in. They had a brief conversation before he smiled and nodded. He then came back over to me with a tentative smile across his lips as he sat down in the booth on the other side of the table. I gently pushed one of the hot chocolates towards him. He smiled and said a thanks before taking a sip. I raised my own mug and smiled behind it as I took a drink.

He put down his mug after a moment and opened his mouth to speak. "Accent?"

It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. "Oh! American," I said. He tilted his head in questioning.

"Here?" he said. He was speaking English, but only a couple words. It was like he was trying to talk to me more in my native language. I started to tell him about my situation and we just started talking from there. The cafe was virtually empty at this time of day so he didn't have to worry about serving anyone. We talked and laughed, and it turned out we had more in common than I ever would have guessed.

Eventually, I realized it was getting late. I said something about needing to go and Virgil frowned a little. He looked nervously down at his hands and then back up at me. "Meet me in park?" he asked shyly.

"What time?" I asked, smiling wide as I opened my phone to write a reminder.

We settled on 10:30 AM, it being Saturday tomorrow and Virgil not needing to work. He had pulled out his own phone to write himself a reminder when I got an idea. I sneaked up next to him and pecked him on the cheek.

The man looked up at me, jaw dropped in shock and his cheeks turning bright pink. I smiled and gave him a tiny wink before leaving the cafe with a grin on my face. I waved goodbye as he continued to blush.

- The Next Day -

I arrived at the park early at about 10:05. I had brought a small sketchbook of mine because Virgil mentioned wanting to see my art. Sitting down on a bench, I started to draw him from my memory of what he looked like. I tried to capture every detail I could recall about the pretty waiter. I hadn't realized where the time had gone and I suddenly felt a person's breath on my ear. I jumped, looking behind me as the person moved away with a small laugh.

"Hi Roman," he said as he sat down next to me on the bench. I blushed, realizing he had seen my drawing. "Me?" he asked, pointing to the drawing. I nodded and he smiled super big, nodding enthusiastically. "Very good!"

We spent the whole day talking to each other. I spoke to him in mostly French, but he clearly wanted to learn English, so I taught him some phrases. We got ice cream at some point and walked through the park until the sun began to go down. We sat down together to watch it set and I smiled at him.

"I think I love you..." I murmured to myself, not really intending for Virgil to hear me.

However, he did. It was no surprise. We were sitting close enough that our shoulders were touching. He turned his head, giving me a confused look. "What?" he asked, not understanding the English. I turned to him and smiled a bit shyly.

"I," I said, pointing to me.

"I," he repeated.

"Love," I said, making a hand heart.

"Love?" he repeated, still unsure.

"You," I finished, pointing to him.

"You..." he repeated softly, trying to decipher what the English words meant.

"Virgil.." I said softly, getting him to look at me. I smile and repeat it in French as he gazes at me with those deep brown eyes. "Je t'aime."

His eyes slowly lit up and a grin broke out across his face. He looked down at his hands and then back at me, leaning in to press our lips briefly together. He spoke as he pulled away, offering a small, shy smile as he articulated the foreign words as he best he could. "I love you too."