Under The Summer Sun. Emmanuel Bodin

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      To get to the park, they had crossed a large part of the nineteenth arrondissement, some of the gloomiest corners of Paris among which it would be possible to award the gold medal of French rot. And this filth is a good business, the price per square meter is higher than in sunny southern areas. Svetlana felt like she was at home. It was the buildings, the shops, the particularly ugly and dirty aesthetics that reminded her of the city she came from. It was not at all like the touristy areas that visitors strolled through to admire. Here, they roamed an area at the antipode of Paris that sells through postcards. And yet, in these places the greatest human values are certainly hidden, far from this false and mannered bourgeoisie.

      Once in the park, they had gone to Belvedere Island at the Temple de la Sibylle. That day, a zipline was suspended. It spanned the lake to reach the mainland thirty meters below. It was the works of an association that wanted to introduce teenagers to the thrills of treetop adventure courses. After the descent, they were invited to discover other activities in an adventure park in the Paris region. It was a kind of demonstration-sample marketing in partnership with Paris city hall. Frank and Svetlana watched several young people jump into nothingness. Although at first the device seemed impressive, the did not actually move very quickly. Arriving on the other side was smooth, someone being there to help them. They stopped to take some pictures. Frank shot Svetlana again from different angles.

      While admiring the view, they were able to see just how far they had walked. The Basilica of the Sacred Heart seemed very far and small from there. Leaning on the railing, their bodies had begun to brush, voluntarily and timidly. Unable to do anything else on this cliff except watching young people attach themselves to a rope, they had headed for the suspended bridge. Here was still the association. This time it offered an introduction to rock climbing for children. Or rather a rappelling descent that brought them eight meters below. Still on the railing, they lingered there for a long time. Time flew by, as they revelled in each other’s company.

      Svetlana had told him about her family. Her mother was from Ukraine and her father was a native Russian. She missed her sister a lot. They trusted with everything, like two very close friends. Svetlana lived two hundred kilometres from the family nucleus. She only visited them during the school holidays. The rest of the time, she lived in a student hostel in Irkutsk city centre, ten minutes from her school. One of her art teachers was a young Frenchman, barely thirty, whom she found attractive. She would not have been against something happening between them in a different context. Frank supposed she was telling him this information to indicate the direction to take. He had to show her the will of a man who wants a woman. In any case, they laughed. Their hands were getting closer and closer.

      Frank had put his hand gently on Svetlana hand, that had been playing around beside his. She did not try to pull away, which confirmed Frank’s thought. From that point on, he was sure that their outing would evolve into so much more. This girl was as flustered as he was. Now, he had to get it together and muster up some courage to bring down the next set of barriers.

      They had decided to continue their walk, after having lingered for quite some time in that place. Frank’s right index finger caught Svetlana’s, who was beginning to retrace their steps. On the way, he got hold of her left index finger, like a hook. Their fingers could have easily become untied. The sensation of her touch was pleasant. They both knew that what they wanted was their hearts to get involved in the game ofintertwining. Their knuckles clutched, Frank had proposed crossing the bridge to go to the waterfall on the other side. As her only answer, Svetlana had widened her eyes. As they walked she strolled closer and closer to his body. She had told him verbally that she wanted to see this place. Frank’s left hand had captured Svetlana’s left hand and offered it to his right hand. Ten fingers were hugging each other. Their mouths were walled in a silence that delighted them. A strong heat spread from this contact and brightened Frank. Feeling the softness of the hand of a highly desired woman becomes a pure moment of liberation. However, the gesture invites the man to continue the game of seduction even more. It is in that moment that you know something important has just happened and that something more serious is about to manifest itself. It’s like sealing a pact or signing an act. Before this agreement, they were just two foreign shadows. Now, they embodied two souls united together through which the other carried the hope of a new love.

      At the waterfall, Frank asked Svetlana if she wanted to take pictures, once again. She had accepted, with a gesture of the head. Her eyes shone like a thousand stars together. Like a little girl, she ran to get in position in front of the waterfall, came back to leave her bag at Frank’s feet, and then ran back to pose. When the fun of taking pictures was over, Frank returned the camera to its owner. In return, she had given him her hand again. They had played this innocent and naive game at two other places in the park. A hunger for each other started to grow within them.

      While sinking into a remote area of the park overlooking the small Paris belt and where some fruit trees were hidden, they had crossed several couples kissing. They smiled, a little embarrassed by the situation. The two watched each other, lowering their heads… Deep down, they were waiting for the same exchange. Being in that area was the perfect opportunity to make this sweet exchange happen, except that Frank had not felt the click, blocked by a certain shyness. He had preferred not to brutally provoke this act. He wanted it would happen as naturally as possible.

      It was now evening. The cold had begun to spread. On an isolated dirt road, Frank had asked Svetlana if she would have dinner with him. Surprised by this unexpected proposal, she had hesitated about the answer to give. “Was she presentable? What was this man really looking for?” An embarrassing procrastination had taken place. This hesitation had astonished Frank. He wondered. Did he just start a new speed too quickly, at the risk of destroying the entire clutch? He had supposed she would have said yes, without flinching. What was holding her back? She who had not let go of his hand in the afternoon!

      Suddenly, Svetlana replied, “Okay!” A simple word that was bitterly out of her mouth as a radical decision that would have impacted the rest of her life…

      Frank felt relieved. A smile had swept across his face. They had then slipped out of the park and strolled down the adjoining sidewalk. Their hands did not separate once. They caressed each other’s fingers more intensively, generously. Their palms had established a sense of sensuality between them.

      On the way, they had stopped for the first time, for some useless reason since they were already talking. The true purpose of this halt was instinctive. The two lovebirds found themselves eye to eye. Slowly, Frank’s gaze lowered, madly seduced by the gaze of the goddess in front of him. Oh yes, Svetlana wanted the same thing as Frank! She no longer waited for him to bravely prove his burning desire for her.

      Feeling convinced and confident, Frank drew closer to her face. He wanted to taste the sweetness of her lips that strut boldly a few inches from his. Feeling certain in what was about to happen, Svetlana bit her lower lip, instinctively, offering the flowering of a small scarlet sting. Brain overload! Frank’s body had deviated from the initial target, caught in an unspeakable panic. He stayed at a distance from her, staring at the blue glint of Svetlana’s intrigued vision that wondered how and why he had suddenly abandoned aborted the mission. Turning his eyes away, dismissed by his own instincts, he took hold of her hand to continue their walk.

      Frank tried to figure out what had caused that cut on her lip. Did she want him so badly? His quick attempt had ended in failure. He had deflated at the last second, a few inches from the mouth that he was lusting after and that was taunting him. It was the golden opportunity he had been hoping for since the second he had gripped her fingers. Yet still, he had allowed that important moment to bypass them, that important move that makes it possible to move forward, because he would be freed from the essential act, like an invitation card offered that gives access to all the grandeur of a passion in the making: a love story could begin. Why is the first kiss always so complicated? Why does it cause so much apprehension, even when both parties knew that they wanted it? Just as he perceives the СКАЧАТЬ