Parisian Romance

Accordion music echoes through the Parisian traffic. The Eiffel Tower appeared behind the spring trees, sparkling in the afternoon sun. Emily and Oliver, a British couple, have just stepped out of Beer Hockey Station, looking up at the top of the tower. Emily gasps. It's even taller than I imagined. Oliver, pretending to be calm. Not taller than your expectations. They both laugh, walking hand in hand along the Seine. They line up at the foot of the tower. Oliver winks. Want to take the stairs? Like true romantics? Emily, wide-eyed. Or we could not die today. They stepped into the elevator, the sunlight streaming through the glass. They both look down at the city of Paris, shrinking below. At the top of the tower, the wind blows Emily's hair. She leans against Oliver's shoulder, her eyes watching the city stretch out. Emily, voiceover, emotional. People chase love across oceans. Ours somehow ended up here, on top of the world. The two sat eating crepes on the Champ de Mars lawn, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the background as the sky began to darken. Emily rubs Nutella on Oliver's nose with her finger. Oliver. This is sabotage. Emily. This is France. Night falls. They stand by the fence, watching the tower light up against the night sky. Then, suddenly, the flashing lights flash, like a dance of light. Emily breathing softly. It's sparkling. Oliver. So are you. He pulls a small bracelet made of cloth from his pocket, simple, rustic. Oliver, hesitantly. I didn't bring a ring, but I brought a promise. Emily smiles, her eyes slightly moist. She holds out her hand, letting him put the bracelet on her wrist. A couple embraces under the Eiffel Tower, amidst the shimmering lights, in Paris, where love is written in lights and whispers. Emily, voiceover, as light as a breath. In a city full of love stories, I think we just wrote ours. Thanks for watching. See you next time. Bye-bye.