Chapter Text
Date: November 2015
Rey groaned as she stepped out into the afternoon sun. It may not have been very warm in Paris in November but it didn’t make the sun any less lethal. The Christmas break was approaching and she had been grinding to finish the final part of her assignment due the first week in December. She was pretty much finished but Rey was, in every sense of the word, a perfectionist and it showed since she was sitting in a cafe on a Sunday stressing over not only her Masters, but her Ph.D applications too.
“Study your Masters abroad, they said. It’ll be an experience, they said,” the brunette muttered to herself as she whipped out her pack of cigarettes from her bag, bringing one to her lips.
Smoking had been a relatively recent occurrence for the twenty-two year old. She could practically pinpoint it to the date and time when she first put one of them to her lips. Yup, final year at NYU; about to hand in her dissertation when she realised there was a typo on the cover page… definitely it. Luckily that didn’t stop her from graduating top of her class with a clear acceptance into Université PSL, Paris; ranked 50th in the world.
After another few moments in thought, Rey took out her lighter and lit her cigarette that was still sitting in her mouth, demanding her attention. She took a long drag of the stick before shoving the lighter back into the pocket of her jeans. It took mere moments for the feeling of the smoke filling her lungs to calm her down slightly, enough at least so she would be able to continue on with the redraft of her paper. She glanced back into the cafe to make sure everything was as she left it before she let her eyes drift closed as she took in the sounds of the city. Paris in November was lovely, she had found. Far less tourists to annoy the student and temperature that reminded her of her beloved New York. Of course the weather there could be scorching but the Fall was her favourite; and this matched up perfectly.
She inhaled her cigarette another time, keen to enjoy it as long as possible, when a disturbance headed her way.
“Uh… bon- jooor?” A male voice broke through her concentration, making her lips twitch as they threatened a smile at the poor French she heard from what she presumed was an American. Despite being from England, her mother was from France; therefore Rey was fluent.
She cracked her eyes open to cast a glance at the stranger who addressed her, all the while, mischief glinted in her eye.
“Oui? Puis-je aider?” she asked him, finally taking in the man’s appearance. He was bordering on ridiculously tall: inches above six foot, which was a damned miracle in Paris, she had discovered. Even her 5’ 6 frame wasn’t small enough for her sometimes. Her attention returned to the man and noted his handsome face; his bone structure was wonderful with high cheekbones and a jawline that could probably cut glass. He definitely didn’t belong here; if he did, she would stay in France the rest of her life if they offered up men who looked like him. Her own joke nearly made her giggle but she managed to contain it, just as she heard his answer.
“Jayyy voudrayyy… uh… shit. Je voudrais… a… um… lighter?” Yup, his French was abysmal and it took everything in Rey’s power not to start to laugh. But the fact he was even trying enough for her to stay reserved. She wondered if he would start to mime to her what he needed, depended on how desperate he was for a smoke, she supposed. Right on cue, the man brought his hand up and performed an exaggerated movement of lighting a cigarette in the air. It was enough for her to put him out of his misery.
“French is definitely not your forte, I worried you were going to give yourself a stroke for a minute,” she chuckled as she pulled out her own lighter and held it out to him, all the while he wore a dumbfounded expression on his face.
“Mother Fucker… do you take pleasure in watching men die inside?” he enquired as he took the offered object, which only incited a giggle from her.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. Not everyday you meet an American man so desperate for a cigarette he’d resort to using French.” She chuckled then, bringing sucking in another serving of smoke and flicking it out in the ashtray provided.
“Not everyday you meet an English girl in France, with perfect french, and a penchant embarrassing a man who almost begged in a language he doesn’t know,” came the retort. Rey bowed her head a little to give her a moment to compose herself. She didn’t want the handsome stranger to take her reactions to heart. In a way it was strange to speak to someone who spoke English as their mother tongue. A lot of jokes were lost on people here.
“Ah... my mother’s French so I have a get out of jail free card on that.”
“That why you’re here?” The enquiry caught Rey off guard; she wasn’t sure why since it was hardly like he seemed closed off. Perhaps it was more to do with the fact that she was used to the French air of indifference, especially when it came to men.
“No, I’m doing my Masters here.” She watched as her answer caused his eyebrows to shoot up towards his hairline. At least, that’s what it looked like since she could barely see that far.
“Beauty and brains…” A snort came from her mouth. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d get one of those lines on there. Though there was a giddy feeling in her stomach when he referred to her as a beauty.
Pull it together Rey , she scolded herself.
“Okay here was me thinking I’d escape the French romantic pick up lines by talking to you…” She jokingly chastised him, snickering away to herself.
“An eye for an eye; you made me cringe now it’s your turn.” Ohh, he was good. And she had no real answer to that.
“Touché.”
“So… where are you from?” Content with his victory, Ben immediately moved on to a new line of questioning. He was a talker and he was good at keeping the topic of the conversation on finding out more about her. Too good in fact.
“Well I’m from London originally but I’m an Eastern girl at heart; I lived in New York for fifteen years,” she replies simply.
“Where?!” The abrupt response made Rey almost choke on the smoke she had been inhaling.
“New York City.”
“No fucking way! NYC born and raised.” His eyes, which were ridiculously blue, widened even more. Like he had just solved one of life’s great mysteries though, in fairness to him, the idea that two people from New York just met in Paris of places was crazy.
“You’re shitting me! Small world huh?” Rey let out a laugh of disbelief and shook her head. It was hard to process since the men she usually met in her adopted hometown didn’t quite look like him. Not by a long shot. Probably down to the fact she never really looked in the proper places.
“Yeah… so, you got a name? Or should I call you New York Girl?” His question came with a smirk, one that she enjoyed too much. She had no real defence except she was used to the French men who were nothing like him.
“Though New York Girl would be amusing; it’s Rey. You?” She chuckled as she looked up at him, waiting for an answer.
“You… you don’t know?” His question wasn’t one of annoyance or expectation; it was more of curiosity. It made her wonder what she was missing in all of this.
“Um… no? I don’t have a crystal ball,” she joked with him, running her free hand through her hair out of slight awkwardness.
“Oh… it’s K-... uh… Ben.” He held his hand out to her after he almost stuttered over his name.
“Okay uh- Ben , you got any plans? This cafe is pretty damn good if you feel like a coffee.” The offer was out before she could really think but she was aware that her cigarette was down to the filter, which meant she would have to go inside lest she make it seem as though she just wanted to just talk. She shook his hand after the offer, not wanting another cringe moment again.
“I do have to be somewhere later but a coffee right now would be awesome!” He shot her the biggest grin as he stubbed out his own cigarette, waiting on her to lead the way. In response, Rey dropped her own into the ashtray.
“Come on then… oh, and let me do the ordering; this place is considering bringing back the guillotine for people with French as bad as yours,” she teased him, throwing a smirk over her shoulder as she pushed the door to the cafe open.
“Oh ha- fucking- ha.” His retort brought out a giggle from her as they made their way across the room to the table she had been occupying since opening.