Amelie listened to Julien's heartfelt confession, her expression softening with each passing moment. As he finished speaking, she was silent for a long moment, her brows furrowed in thought. Then, slowly, she shook her head, a look of regret and apology etched onto her beautiful features.
"Julien, you don't need to apologize," Amelie said softly, her voice a gentle murmur as she placed her hand over his own, giving it a comforting squeeze. "In fact, I should be the one apologizing to you. I assumed things without knowing the full truth of what you were going through, without understanding the struggles and hardships you faced. That was my fault, not yours."
Julien's eyes widened in surprise at Amelie's words, a flicker of emotion passing over his face. Before he could stop himself, a single tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another, and another. He quickly wiped at his eyes with his napkin, trying to regain his composure, but it was too late. The dam had broken, and the tears came pouring out, a lifetime of pent-up emotion and pain finally finding release.
"Merci, Amelie," Julien choked out, his voice a low, emotional rasp as he gazed at her with a look of deep gratitude and relief. "Thank you for understanding, for seeing things from my perspective. It means more to me than you could ever know."
Amelie watched as Julien struggled to regain his composure, a look of concern and sympathy on her face. She gave his hand another gentle squeeze, a silent gesture of support and understanding.
"There's no need to thank me, Julien," Amelie said softly, a small, gentle smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Just eat your breakfast before it gets cold. I worked hard on these Crêpes, and I don't want them to go to waste." She winked at him playfully, a teasing glint in her green eyes.
Julien chuckled, a watery but genuine sound as he nodded in agreement. "Oui, of course," he murmured, picking up his fork and knife once more. He cut into the delicate pastry, the knife slicing through the golden-brown exterior with ease. As he brought the morsel to his mouth, he couldn't help but inhale the aroma, a mix of buttery richness and a hint of something sweet and indulgent.
As they began to eat, Amelie glanced up at Julien, a look of curiosity and interest on her face. "So tell me, Julien," she said, her voice a low, friendly murmur. "What are you doing now? Have you found your passion and purpose in life?"
Julien chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing, a look of pride and accomplishment on his handsome face. "Oui, I have," he said, a note of satisfaction in his tone. "I'm an architect now, Amelie. I design and build homes, offices, and other structures. It's a lot of work, but it's incredibly rewarding to see something you've designed and drawn up on paper come to life before your very eyes."
He paused, a look of genuine interest and warmth on his face as he gazed at Amelie. "What about you, Amelie? What have you been up to all this time? I hope you've found your calling as well."
Amelie continued to eat her Crêpe, savoring the delicate flavor and texture as she listened to Julien's response. She nodded, a look of genuine happiness and pride on her face as she gazed at him with admiration.
"C'est fantastique, Julien," Amelie said, a note of sincerity and respect in her voice. "An architect, wow. I always knew you had a talent for design and a keen eye for aesthetics. It's wonderful to hear that you've found your calling." She paused, taking another bite of her breakfast before continuing.
Julien's eyes softened at Amelie's words, a flicker of emotion passing over his face. He placed his hand over hers, giving it a grateful squeeze in return. "Merci, Amelie," he said, his voice a low, heartfelt rasp. "That means more to me than you could ever know."
"As for me, well..." Amelie began, a small, almost shy smile tugging at her lips. "I'm an art curator now. I work at the Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "It's a dream job, really. I get to be surrounded by beautiful art every day, and I have the privilege of helping to showcase and promote the work of talented artists from all over the world."
Amelie's smile widened, a mischievous glint appearing in her green eyes as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs beneath the table. "I oversee exhibitions, research the artists and their work, and work with galleries and collectors to acquire new pieces for the museum's permanent collection. It's a lot of work, but it's incredibly rewarding to know that I'm playing a part in preserving and promoting the art that I love so much."
She took a sip of her coffee, a look of quiet satisfaction on her face as she gazed at Julien over the rim of her cup. "I'm so happy for you, Julien," Amelie said softly, a note of sincerity and warmth in her tone. "And I'm even happier to hear that we've both found our passions and purpose in life. It's amazing how much can change in a decade, n'est-ce pas?"
Julien nodded, a look of satisfaction and contentment on his handsome face as he finished the last bite of his Crêpe. He got up from his seat, plate in hand, and made his way towards the kitchen. Amelie followed close behind, a playful smile on her lips as she watched him go.
"Laisse-moi," Amelie said, a note of teasing in her voice as she reached out for Julien's plate. "Let me take that, Julien. I can wash the dishes, remember?"
Julien shook his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he held the plate out of Amelie's reach. "Non, non," he said, a low, husky rasp to his tone. "Allow me to, Amelie. I insist on cleaning up, after all, you did all the hard work in the kitchen." He winked at her playfully, a teasing glint in his dark eyes.
Amelie chuckled, a soft, melodic sound as she let her hand fall back to her side. "Très bien, d'accord," she murmured, a note of amusement and acceptance in her voice. "If you insist, Julien."
As they entered the kitchen, Julien set his plate down in the sink with a soft clatter. He turned to face Amelie, a look of quiet intensity on his face as he gazed at her across the small space. Amelie, feeling his eyes on her, glanced up to meet his stare, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she quickly looked away.
Julien took a step towards her, then another, until he was standing mere inches away from her. He reached out, his hand coming to rest on the counter beside her hip, effectively trapping her between his body and the hard, unyielding surface of the marble. Amelie's breath hitched in her throat, her heart beginning to race as she felt the heat of Julien's body so close to her own.
"Julien," she breathed, a note of warning and anticipation in her voice as she slowly, reluctantly met his gaze. "What are you doing?"
Julien's eyes were dark, his expression a mix of desire and longing as he gazed down at Amelie. "Je ne peux pas m'en empêcher," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp as he leaned in closer, his lips a mere whisper away from her own.
Amelie's blush deepened into a fierce, burning crimson as she gazed at Julien's lips, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne and the faint aroma of coffee on his breath. Her lips parted slightly, a soft, unconscious invitation as she tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering closed in anticipation.
Julien didn't hesitate. He pressed his lips against hers in a hard, desperate kiss, a low groan escaping him as he pulled her flush against his body. His hand slid from the counter to the small of her back, his fingers splaying across the delicate curve of her spine as he held her tight. Amelie gasped, her lips parting further as she felt the rough, insistent pressure of Julien's mouth on her own.
Julien took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving past her parted lips to stroke along the smooth, velvety surface of her tongue. Amelie moaned, a soft, breathy sound that sent a jolt of desire straight to Julien's core. His other hand came up to tangle in her hair, his fingers threading through the silky strands as he angled her head to the side, allowing him to plunder her mouth more thoroughly.
Amelie's hands came up to grasp at Julien's shoulders, her nails digging into the firm, muscular flesh beneath his shirt. She could feel the heat of his skin, could trace the contours of his body through the thin, worn fabric. Julien's hand slid down to grip her hip, his fingers digging into the soft, supple curve of her flesh as he pressed her even harder against the counter, the hard, unyielding surface digging into her back.
Julien's kiss turned more demanding, more insistent, a desperate expression of all the pent-up longing and desire he had felt for Amelie over the years. His tongue danced with hers, stroking and caressing every inch of her mouth, tasting her sweetness and the lingering flavor of the Crêpes they had just shared. Amelie could feel the hard, insistent press of his arousal against her stomach, a testament to his growing desire and need for her.