A/N 1:

Just a heads up, this chapter is very different. This is basically a day with Finn and Rachel walking around and talking, the plot is very simple. I describe their actions as if they were in a movie scene – it's like "Before Sunset". So, a lot of dialogues guys (^v^) Enjoy!

Chapter 11: Paris In June

i.

"So you never saw her again afterwards?"

"No. We exchanged phone numbers and addresses, but something must have happened and I lost contact with her ever since."

"Mister Hudson! Do you think you'll see her again someday?"

All of a sudden, his mind is filled with sparkling memories of a beautiful brunette little girl, whose eyes keep him captivated every time he stares into them; of silky skin and tangled legs; of brown hair and of the most graceful cheekbones he'll ever know.

"I always dream about it." – He smiles at one of his brightest students.

"What do you think it'll be like?"

He looks at the door of the auditorium and finds her standing there, arms crossed in front of her chess, hair pulled up in a pony tail, black tank top tugged in skinny leather pants and a pair of ankle boots, with a brown satchel.

Rachel.

Standing 5 foot 3 and smiling at him with a newfound warmth and kindness in her eyes.

He puts a hand on his chest where his heart is supposed to be at and clutches the front of his shirt, while she tilts her head then repeats the question and his curious students exchanging looks among themselves.

"Well" – He can't recognize his own voice – "I always think it'd be on a rainy Sunday when I was checking out some old vinyl records in a little vintage shop in New York, you know, I'd be on my vacation and I'd decide to bike around my old city. And I'd bump into her – dressed in a flowy sundress with a cup of coffee in her hand and we'd accidentally pick the same Bon Iver record."

Some "awww"s are being heard around the classroom.

"So" – She laughs and gestures her hand back and forth – "This is nothing like what you expected?"

"No." – He leans back on his desk and crosses his arms in front of his chest – "Better".

ii.

Class ends half an hour later, and he walks as quickly as he can to where she said she'd be waiting for him. From his classroom to where she's at is a 26 – step walk and to be honest, that's the longest walk he's ever made in his life.

All the while, he's still trying to calm his heart and grasps his min around the idea that's she's actually here, they're going to catch up and he'll be spending some time with her.

He makes careful, almost too careful steps on the concrete of the yard; he listens to the clacking noise his shoes are making, while loosening his tie and rolls the sleeves of his shirt up.

She's sitting on an iron bench under the biggest oak tree in the campus, head leaning back, eyes shut, slender fingers tapping along with a steady rhythm.

"Hey there stranger" – He says as he sits down next to her, their thighs so close.

"Hey" – She replies without opening her eyes.

He mimics her action – Finn leans his head back on the cold barrier of the iron bench and looks up. Through the dancing leaves of the oak tree, he can see the sky sparkling and feel the silkiness of the summer heat washing over his body.

"Never thought you'd be a professor."

"Well, I'm full of surprises."

"You're not sleeping with any of your students, are you?"

"Why not?"

"Because it's both unethical and predictable."

Finn laughs and turns his head to take a closer look at her face. She's still closing her eyes, her soot – black eyelashes caressing her cheeks, her slightly parted lips shining with youth, and it takes him a lot of effort not to trace the outline of her cheekbone. He doesn't think any poets or painters can ever describe or capture the ultimate femininity of a cheekbone, let alone the playfulness and desire in her whole warm body which is so close to his.

"No, not students" – He sits with his chin propped up in one hand, resting his arm on the cold iron of the bench's barrier –"Teachers, maybe."

"So you've turned into a man whore since the last time we met?" – They both burst out laughing and he still hears sunlight in her voice.

She puts a hand in front of her face to block the bright sunlight coming right at them after emerging behind the curtain of clouds then stands in front of him and extends her hand.

"Do you want to grab a cup of café? I know this really cute café near here".

He takes her hand and shivers at the very simple gesture. "I'd love to."

"Gosh, this is so weird." – He rubs his face with one hand, the other stuffed in his pocket and smiles at her as they walk side by side – "I thought I lost it when I saw you standing at the doorway. I was really surprised I could hold myself together. How long has it been?"

"Seven years."

"Seven? It only seems like yesterday in my apartment in New York."

"I know, right?"

"How do you know about my teaching here, at AUP?"

"Erm, I have a friend, Jessica, she's in your class and she mentioned a tall and handsome professor once but I just recently found out that it was you."

"You came here to travel or…?" – He squints his eyes at the too bright sunlight.

"No, I've been living here for 3 months."

"What? Why didn't you come find me earlier? Careful." – He grabs her arm as a biker passes by.

"I didn't have the guts to" – She shrugs and tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear – "I didn't know if you wanted to see me or not."

"I always want to see you, R." – They stop walking and face each other, he taps her nose lightly and smiles.

"Well, hi." – She runs her fingers through his now much shorter hair and traces the freckles on the bridge of his nose. It's always been their habit – caressing each other's nose like it was the most beautiful thing.

"Hi."

iii.

"Wow, this is really nice. I've been living here in Paris all along and I can't believe I've never been in here." – He says as he pulls a chair to sit down in a small café at the corner of rue Jean Macé.

"You're kidding?" – She hits him on the arm lightly, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"No, I've never been in here. I walked pass this several times though."

"I loved it the first time I saw it. The red sign really caught my eye."

He props himself up with one elbow and plays with his eyelashes while watching her speaking French with the ginger head waitress.

"Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?"

" Erm, un café au lait et…" - She looks at him expectantly.

"un café.''

"Qui, merci.''

"Merci. Wow, R, you really have mastered French!"

"Shut up!"- She hits him playfully and they remain silent for a moment. The afternoon surrounds them with sounds of a bike ringing its bell when its rolling wheels make these distinctive clacking sounds on the concrete walk; a couple walking by with their hands linked together and a guy chasing after a bull dog.

"I wish we had these café in the states." – He finally speaks up while taking off his jacket.

"Yeah, this is actually very nice."

"I still have no idea about you though. Update me, R. Come on, what do you do? Where do you live? Are you planning on staying here in Paris for good or…?"

"Well. Merci" – She takes the cup of coffee from the ginger head waitress – "I am a photographer, I live with my boyfriend in an apartment on Rue de Merignan and I'm actually heading back to the States tonight."

"Wow." – He couldn't help but feel curious – "You have a boyfriend?"

"That's all you can take out from what I just said?"

"Is he French?"

"No, he's British. I met him when I went to study photography in NYU."

"Wait a minute. You followed him here, didn't you?" – He puts his cup of coffee down on the table and leans forward.

"He's a news photographer, he moves a lot. He took a flight to New York last week and we're meeting tomorrow."

He chuckles and leans back, clasps his hands behind his head. "So much has changed."

"Really? Do I look older?"

"Yeah, you got wrinkles and stuff." – She pouts at his words –"No, R, I'm kidding. I just… I think I have to see you naked to actually know."

They both laugh again and he's loving how he could be like this around her this time. Time does heal, after all.

But in the back of his mind, he thinks he still yearns for her. How can he possibly tell her that that last time with her is tattooed on his mind; that he remembers every little detail of the whole thing – the way her fingers clutching at his front when she cried, her hot lips pressing against his own, her marble arms around his tired body when she whispered "I'm sorry", "I never wanted to hurt you", the way he saw the sunlight dying on her glistening skin? They're still there. Everything is.

"I think you'll look better with your hair down" – Feeling bold, he sits up and takes the rubber strand out and watches in amazement as her brown hair floats down on her olive shoulders – and in a moment acted out of habit, he runs his fingers through her hair.

"Much better" – He breathes the words to her and misses the blush on her skin.

"Do you do that to every girl you like?"

"No, just the prettiest."

She smiles and looks down at her lap, fidgeting with the satchel's strap.

"I read your book."

"Oh stop" – He waves his hands at her – "You're one of very few people on this Earth have read it."

"It's really nice, I mean, it's a little cheesy…"

"Cheesy? R, it's romance, it's supposed to be cheesy."

"As I was saying" – They share a laugh – "I can't help feeling that you built the girl character on me."

"What makes you think it's you?"

"Well" – She looks away and tilts her head aside – "Her height is below average, she's brunette, she has a male cat named Barbra" ("A lot of people name their male cats Barbra" – she gives him a really? look) "She likes eating cinnamon ice cream…" ("I like eating cinnamon ice cream too") "and she has my nose."

"Wow, okay, guilty as charged!"

"It's really strange, seeing yourself through somebody's eyes, you know?" – She takes a sip of the hot coffee and brushes her lips with the back of her hand, he sees the brown drop at the corner of her lovely lips – "Do you really see me that way?"

"Yes."

"You must have loved me so much back then." – She smiles at him, and he's turning with mad with love again at just the mere sight of her face.

"You have no idea".

iv.

"Where are we going again? I don't really have much time."

"My favorite store in Paris, R, you won't believe it!"

They walk together, as two wanderers with their skins soaking in the sunlight of Paris, occasionally stealing glances and let their fingers brush against one another. He playfully nudges at her side from time to time and she squeals before pinching his nose as an act of vengeance.

She's changed – so much. She seems to be so calm now, wise and versed in her words as well as her actions. She's no longer his little Rachel with a horrible temper; what left in her may be an echo from the past, from a bedazzling affair that his poet heart sometimes weeps for its beauty, but he knows he'll turn mad if he doesn't love her. Loving her is his nature. He has chosen to love her from the very beginning, and he always tells himself, there is no Rachel he would not love.

They're walking on the river bank when he sees it.

Rachel could never be more beautiful than she is right now, with brown hair cascading down her back, her smooth skin is irresistibly sweet, her eyes twinkling, sweat on her forehead, and the water is sparkling magnificently. He sees her as 10, 16, 17, 18 and he swims in the memories, in secrets, in rain and in the overwhelming scent of August flowers when they made feels as if his heart were going to burst if he doesn't do something – waves of emotions clamoring.

"Hey R."

"Yeah?" – She stops, tucking her hair back as a wind blows pass them.

He looks behind her to see the sun slowly setting on the river whose surface has turned golden and smiles at her.

"I still remember everything."

"What?" – She tilts her head to the left, her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"I still remember everything, that night, and the night before. And every night before that."

"Que c'etait loin, tout cela(All of that is so far away now)!"

"Don't you?"

"Of course I do. I also remember we had sex twice that afternoon."

v.

"Wow, Finn! This is so lovely!"

The music store is a little shop in an untapped small street of rue Saint Martin, not so far away from the busy avenue of Paris. Dangling from the ceiling are strings of old broken vinyl records – they make these sparks that always remind him of the sun on the river's surface; on the orange wall are couple of album covers and occasionally an artist's autograph. They have this little glass door room for customers to try out vinyl records, and it gives him this tranquility of having something so close to home in this stranger city.

"Hey look! Bon Iver!" – She squeals as she goes through the stacks of vinyl records. He leans back against one of the shelves and chuckles when she puts a hand over her mouth in disbelief whenever she sees her favorite artists' albums.

"Do you know her?" – She holds up an album and stands next to him.

"Camille? No, not really."

"Boy, you're missing out on too much!"

"You never watched Doctor Doolittle?"

"No, not really."

"Boy, you're missing out on too much".

They're in the stuffy glass door room, listening to the record. She has her eyes closed, back against the wall, arms crossed in front of her chest. He mimics her actions but keeps his eyes open to study the look on her face. When she hears something nice, she'll furrow her eyebrows and a smile will reach her lips, she'll let her arms rest against her sides and her fingers will tap along with the beat. They're standing dangerously close, with her shoulder touching his, their fingers brushing against each other's.

She opens her eyes and turns to look at him, smiling, sighing and rests her head against the wall, nudges his shoulder with her nose. He chuckles and strokes her hair; his poor heart starts beating so fast against his wishes and he bends down to kiss her.

Their lips brush lightly against each other's; but it's enough for him to bring back all the scented memories. He has kissed these lips before – from time to time – and he knows there will never be another pair of lips that could thrill him more.

He's about to deepen the kiss when the glass door swings open and a man quickly apologizes in French before awkwardly steps out.

Rachel looks at him and pulls away before sighing and walking as quickly as she can out of the store.

"Hey, R, wait up!"

"What happened was nothing, okay? I have a boyfriend, god I knew this would be a mistake!"

"R…"

"No, don't R me! RACHEL!"

"Rachel…"

"Just, I have to go to the airport in less than 20 minutes! I have to go home and grab my luggage. What were you thinking? We have one afternoon left and this is what you do?" – She's still walking forwards, not looking at him once.

"You came to Paris to see me, didn't you?"

"Well yes! What do you want me to say? That I've been regretting my decisions and I've missed you and I never thought I'd remember that last day with you more than what I've done last year?"

"What?" – He stops her in her tracks and puts both his hands on her shoulders – "You do?"

"Of course I do" –She looks at him now, but pushes his hands away softly – "But I don't think I can make it work."

They continue walking side by side as the sky's gradually turning into a deep shade of pink.

"I think this is what we do best. Running into each other every 7 year and talking and walking around European cities, in warm climate. Just like the movie."

"Before Sunrise? In Vienna?"

"The sequel."

"Before Sunset?"

"Yeah."

"That's depressing."

"No, it's not. It's what we're meant to do. We cross paths once in a while and keep that time we had for ourselves, and that'll be it." – She stops to look around and tugs at his sleeve – "Where are we heading?"

"Rachel, look. Don't you think this is our second chance?"

"Don't be silly, Finn. This happens on purpose, okay?"

"Think about it, R!"

"We have one afternoon together, that's all."

"We have one afternoon to find out if we belong together or not."

"You're a writer."

"You're a photographer. We both crave romance and freedom."

"That has nothing to do with anything." – She laughs and taps his nose lightly – "We're not meant to be, Finn."

"Are you sure?"

"You'll hate me, you may not know it now but you will. I'll hate you, that's for sure. We have nothing in common."

"Don't mess with my head girl, let's go this way" – He touches her wrist to guide her – "Look, all I'm saying is I think we have been given a really good chance by whomever up there and if I don't use it, I'll be doomed."

"Why are we walking towards the touring boat?"

"This is a faster way to take you to your apartment at Rue de Merignan."

VI.

They're standing at the back of the boat next to each other, letting the warm breeze kiss their skin and mess with their hair. None of them has said a word – they just stand there and he breathes in the smell of Paris in June.

"Are you still mad about me kissing you?" – He says finally, without looking at her.

"I didn't protest, did I?" – He thinks he hears the smile in her reply.

"Are you happy with Henry?" – He turns to look at her in the brown sunlight.

She remains silent and keeps her eyes forward for a moment before speaking up:

"We have our moments, you know. We'd spend some nights at a park and just lying on the grass, gazing at the stars. We'd travel and take these amazing pictures and we'd make love so tenderly in a room during the sunset." – She sighs and continues speaking in a much lower voice – "But there's always something missing. I always crave for something more." – She chuckles and hides her face in one hand – "I sound like a horrible person by saying this but I secretly wish it was a different person sometimes."

"It's not horrible. You know, I have those thoughts too. I mean, my last girlfriend – we dated for 11 months – is a great French girl. Very pretty, smart and witty. And there's this one time, we were watching the sunset from the Eiffel Tower, and suddenly…" – He puts a hand over his chest – "I felt so uneasy, you know, so uncomfortable. And I turn to look at Leila, and I felt like I'm ten thousand miles away from her, you know…"

"Yeah."

"And I …" – He rubs his forehead and sighs – "I wished it had been someone else, you know."

I wish it had been you.

The water is splashing below, glittering the atmosphere with their diamond – like water drops.

"And right now?" – She asks.

He looks at her and his heart is filled with sweetness, he breathes in the very distinctive scent of her skin – now mixed with Paris's sunlight – and answers her with all the truthfulness there could ever be:

"Right now? I'm damn happy."
She's still looking at him, and before long a smile is present on her lips. A smile, so sweet and tender, that he almost wishes he were a painter to capture all of its essences.

They turn their heads to watch the sun setting in front of them in silence, but Finn breaks it shortly afterwards.

"Hey R?"

"Hmm?"

"You knew that taking a tour boat was actually going to make you miss your flight, right?"

"Yeah".

Finn turns to look at her.

"I knew." - She smiles at him then leans forwards to put both her arms on the barrier and rests her chin on top of her hands.

He watches her while she keeps her eyes forwards, humming a tune he barely recognizes. Finn looks down and smiles to himself before moving closer to her, resting both his arms on the iron barrier of the boat and watches the sunset in silence. The water's still sparkling- trying to get the best of the running away sun. The red and gray rooftops of little houses along the river banks have turned golden, the sounds of kids playing and children's laughter echo through the hot atmosphere of the afternoon. He can hear the romantic sound of an accordion playing "La Vie en Rose", and in the beautifully harmonious song Paris is playing – with the vibration of colors and the dreaminess of sounds, he doesn't miss the steady breathing of a certain brunette among the crowds.

fin

A/N2:

I'm tearing up right now guys. I can never thank you enough for anyone who has supported this ff of mine. Thank you theluckyclover for always leaving such constructive reviews :) Thank you for loving this fic. To have the privilege of sharing these words and bringing emotions to you is the best experience I've ever had.

This chapter is the risk I took. I want it to feel real – and I think this is what two people who have experienced such an intense affair should be doing after not seeing each other for years. They catch up and perhaps rekindle their feelings. And "Before Sunset" is an incredible movie, I watched it again for inspirations. I also have the luck to actually went to Paris 2 years ago, I stayed on Rue de Marignan :)

And I just want to somehow carry the atmosphere of Paris to this chapter, hope you guys like it! Please, please, please leave me reviews. This is the last chapter, I want to know what YOU think. Happy? Not satisfied? A one shot sequel maybe? :)

Follow me on Tumblr , mochainthesun and feel free to ask questions and leave me prompts. Click on the setting icon at the top left of my page and then click on the "?". I want to try writing prompts, it seems fun (^v^)

Once again, thank you(*≧▽≦)