It was starting to get chillier as the weeks passed. It was to the point she had to wear long sleeves, ou jackets with an outfit. Which was unfortunate, because the jackets and long sleeve shirts weren’t what toi called “appealing”, to her. They showed no cleavage whatsoever, much to her dismay. Because, she loved to flaunt what she had right claque, smack dab infront of him.
“If toi plan on throwing that at me, you’re going-”
She was cut off, when the sudden feeling of slushy snow slide down the back of sweater, slowly moving down her back. He had taken a handful of snow, and stuck it down the back of her sweater. She hated him at this moment.
He started smiling, while she started giving squeaking noises, trying to franticly shake the back of sweater, to get the snow out. Her movements suddenly stopped, when she saw his breath visible in the cold air.
“What?”
He asks, quickly dropping his smile.
“It’s not funny.”
She gives a devious glare.
“No. Not at all.”
He states, looking away but still smiling, faintly.
She rolls her eyes, as she starts to walk slowly through lightly covered snowy path.
Like always, he’s right behind her.
“Do toi always have to be immature?”
She asks.
“Yes.”
He answers, honestly.
“Well, try and put it to a minimum when you’re around me.”
“Bad day?
He asks, catching on to her harsh tone.
“It was fine.”
He slightly nods.
“Right, par fine toi mean, crappy?”
“It’s none of your business how my jour went ou not.”
“You tell me I’m an ass.”
He murmurs quietly to himself.
“What was that?”
“You have a great ass.”
She knew what he had a dit before. She just wanted him to say it to her face.
“Shut up.”
Her voice comes on amusingly, instead of angrily.
“Gonna tell me what happened?”
“Why do toi want to know so badly?”
“It’s a possibility that maybe I care.”
“No, toi don’t. You’re just curious.”
“Just tell me.”
“I got a B on one of my tests.”
“That’s it?”
“You act as if it’s nothing.”
“Because, it is. For God sakes, it’s a B.”
“Yes, a B. I never get B’s.”
“I’ve got an idea.”
“And what would that be?”
“Well, we could always have sex, if that would make toi happier.”
“No.”
She states, bluntly.
“Fair enough, actually, what I was going to say, is loosen up, and quit worrying about school.”
“Sorry, but I’m not like you. I don’t go out and get drunk and party just for the fun of it.”
“Then what the hell do toi do it for?”
He asks, giving a weird look.
“I don’t do it, period.”
“That’s because you’re a bore.”
“If I was boring, toi wouldn’t even speak to me.”
“Now, toi don’t know that.”
“I know a lot plus than toi think, toi speak to people who intrigue you. And, obviously I do.”
“Oh, please. You’re not even worthy of my attention.”
He lies, trying not to own up to the actual truth.
“If that’s true, let’s see how long toi can last without talking to me.”
“Piece of cake, I could go for months, actually forever.”
“We’ll see how that goes.”
She states, smiling, and turning on a different path away from him.
“If toi plan on throwing that at me, you’re going-”
She was cut off, when the sudden feeling of slushy snow slide down the back of sweater, slowly moving down her back. He had taken a handful of snow, and stuck it down the back of her sweater. She hated him at this moment.
He started smiling, while she started giving squeaking noises, trying to franticly shake the back of sweater, to get the snow out. Her movements suddenly stopped, when she saw his breath visible in the cold air.
“What?”
He asks, quickly dropping his smile.
“It’s not funny.”
She gives a devious glare.
“No. Not at all.”
He states, looking away but still smiling, faintly.
She rolls her eyes, as she starts to walk slowly through lightly covered snowy path.
Like always, he’s right behind her.
“Do toi always have to be immature?”
She asks.
“Yes.”
He answers, honestly.
“Well, try and put it to a minimum when you’re around me.”
“Bad day?
He asks, catching on to her harsh tone.
“It was fine.”
He slightly nods.
“Right, par fine toi mean, crappy?”
“It’s none of your business how my jour went ou not.”
“You tell me I’m an ass.”
He murmurs quietly to himself.
“What was that?”
“You have a great ass.”
She knew what he had a dit before. She just wanted him to say it to her face.
“Shut up.”
Her voice comes on amusingly, instead of angrily.
“Gonna tell me what happened?”
“Why do toi want to know so badly?”
“It’s a possibility that maybe I care.”
“No, toi don’t. You’re just curious.”
“Just tell me.”
“I got a B on one of my tests.”
“That’s it?”
“You act as if it’s nothing.”
“Because, it is. For God sakes, it’s a B.”
“Yes, a B. I never get B’s.”
“I’ve got an idea.”
“And what would that be?”
“Well, we could always have sex, if that would make toi happier.”
“No.”
She states, bluntly.
“Fair enough, actually, what I was going to say, is loosen up, and quit worrying about school.”
“Sorry, but I’m not like you. I don’t go out and get drunk and party just for the fun of it.”
“Then what the hell do toi do it for?”
He asks, giving a weird look.
“I don’t do it, period.”
“That’s because you’re a bore.”
“If I was boring, toi wouldn’t even speak to me.”
“Now, toi don’t know that.”
“I know a lot plus than toi think, toi speak to people who intrigue you. And, obviously I do.”
“Oh, please. You’re not even worthy of my attention.”
He lies, trying not to own up to the actual truth.
“If that’s true, let’s see how long toi can last without talking to me.”
“Piece of cake, I could go for months, actually forever.”
“We’ll see how that goes.”
She states, smiling, and turning on a different path away from him.
When does l’amour become something we need, rather than something we want? l’amour was seen as something special a long time ago. Now l’amour is what we are expected to have with us everyday of our lives. l’amour is common currency when toi are a teenager, but turns to worthless pennies the older toi get. Do we not care about the substance of what l’amour was and not what it has been made into today par commercialisation from American films and télévision commercials and soap operas? Only when we experience l’amour for real, can we commentaire and judge others who are in Love. l’amour means something different to everyone. Not two people’s feeling of l’amour is the same. Why do we generalize, rationalize and compartmentalize Love? l’amour is and will continue to be an enigma. Only a handful of people will ever unlock it and witness its true beauty and essence. The essence we all crave.
Love.
Love.