"museums suck." ; open

[MICHEAL "MIKEY" COLBERT]

Tristan stretched out a bit. That museum could make you feel so clausterphobic. He watched as a group of kids walked in with a tour guide. This part of the museum was so much noisier than the rest. Little voices filled up the small area and made thinking a bit hard. Before he could wonder what school the kids were from, Cleo was pulling him into a hug and saying thank you again. He laughed and hugged her back. He could tell they were going to be fast friends.
“You are very welcome,” he replied cheerfully. “It was my pleasure.”
Then she let go and agreed to coffee. Tristan couldn’t stop smiling. The only people who have really been this nice to him were his French students. This girl didn’t even know him that well and she was agreeing to coffee and tolerating his accent.
”I love sweets. I could live off sweets.”
“That is perfect!” Tristan said while he pushed open the door and let Cleo go out first. Once outside he put his hands in his pockets and shivered. “The weather is chilly no? Perfect coffee weather. You want to take a taxi or walk?” The café was only a few blocks away but it is cold. And Tristan knew that if he is cold, the smallish redhead Cleo must be freezing. After all, she was from California. Tristan was pretty sure it was warm there all the time. Montreal had chilly but beautiful Autumns. The leaves on the Sugar Maple trees were just changing. Kind of like the trees in Central Park right now. Tristan smiled a little. He didn’t like feeling homesick but every now and then he did. He’d definitely call his mom after this coffee run.

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word count: 292
notes: sorry it took so long!

[CLEO EVERETT]

Cleo felt a million times better because she could breathe fully now, she could taste the fresh air, and she could see the sky through the front doors. It was a comfort to see more people here and not just still pieces of art. Art was boring. Officially. There was no way she was ever coming to this museum again. Cleo looked at Tristan, focusing on him instead of the open lobby. She smiled at him, telling herself that she’d thanked him enough. She’d have to keep herself in check to keep from thanking any further. “If I ever get lost again, I’ll have to call you or something—” She paused, realizing that was probably a not-so-subtle way of asking for his number. Cleo grinned and rubbed the back of her neck, a little embarrassed.

Following him to the doors, Cleo stepped out first with a mumbled thank you. It was chilly. Chilly sucked. She seriously missed her sunny beaches. Cleo tugged on the hem of her skirt, wishing she’d been thinking when she left the dorm this morning .She should have checked the weather channel. “It is kind of cold. I don’t mind walking, though.” Cleo quite liked walking, no matter the weather. Plus, she knew she’d really appreciate the coffee after walking a few blocks in the cold. Cleo linked arms with Tristan again, hoping he didn’t mind the contact. He hadn’t said anything while they’d been in the museum. So what if she was the touchy-clingy sort? It was one of the ways she showed affection! “If it gets too cold, we could stop and hail a taxi.”

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words; 272
notes; sorry, it's short >.<
outfit; oo la la

[MICHEAL "MIKEY" COLBERT]

Tristan reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He had a few business cards left from his business class last semester. They had to make up a few to go along with their mock business. He pulled one out and looked at it. The card was white with red cursive letters that said, “Tristan Bougie –Head Chef of Lumiere la France.” Underneath that, there was his phone number and an abstractly drawn chef hat. He chuckled inwardly and handed it to Cleo.

“This is my number. Call me anytime,” he said flashing a grin. Then he paused for a second. That didn’t really sound like him. He didn’t even think about saying it. Weird. “I mean… if you get lost or…” he corrected mumbling a bit. Tristan inwardly grimaced. At times he just flirted without even thinking about it. He just wanted to be friends with this girl! Oh well, she was flirting with him too. She probably won’t make anything of it. Though she was asking for his number… He nodded his head and smiled when she hooked arms with him.
“It is this way. And this time I am very certain,” he laughed walking forwards. He could see the sign of the coffeeshop at the very end of the next street. People brushed past them in coats holding cellphones and participating in the midday rush. They all looked so serious and impersonal. He was so happy that everyone in New York isn’t like that.
“So where do you go to school?” he asked trying to fill the time. He was sure the tip of his nose was an icecube by now, along with his ears. His hair was long but it only did so much.

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word count: 290
notes: so this sucks! sorry

[CLEO EVERETT]

Cleo took the card and appraised it. “I like the chef hat,” she said with a short laugh. Cleo tucked the card into the pockets of her skirt, loving the convenience. Cleo patted his hand with her own, using their linked arms to her advantage. “I’ll be sure to do that.” Perhaps more flirty than she’d intended, especially as they’d just met and she had no idea what his relationship status was. It kind of sucked. Back in California, she really would not have cared at all if he’d been taken or single. Back then, all was fair in love and war. New York was changing her. Cleo stuck close to Tristan; it seemed to be rush hour or something. People were shoving their way past, as if they had somewhere crazy important to go. How annoying. It’s not like moving any faster would help. They would probably still get stuck at an intersection or waiting for the elevator. Why couldn’t they just stop to smell the roses? Well, figuratively, of course. This was New York and it was hard to come by legit roses unless you went to a flower shop.

Cleo laughed. “Good. Being lost is definitely not one of my favorite past-times.” Then again, she only had a few favorite past-times, especially now that she was forcefully limiting herself to doing things. “I go to Barrie U.” Cleo answered, tilting her head up a bit. As usual, she was much too proud of this. “I’m majoring in Psychology.” Like he needed to know that. Cleo wanted to tape her mouth shut or something. Why did she think people cared about these things? She shook her head a little, both to clear her mind and to warm herself up. “What about you?”

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words; 294
notes; sorry, it's short >.<
outfit; oo la la

[MICHEAL "MIKEY" COLBERT]

“I like the chef hat, I’ll be sure to do that.””

Tristan chuckled. “Thank you.” Yes, they were definitely flirting but it was all just for fun. Cleo seemed like the fun-loving type like Tristan. They definitely could have some fun times in the near future. For now, he’d have to get past all these people. It seemed like they were the only ones in the world. Tristan really only liked people feeling that with love. The two look at each other and everyone else disappears. It sounds like a fairy tale but he’s seen it happen before. He’s never experienced it himself but…

“Good. Being lost is definitely not one of my favorite past-times.”

Tristan smiled. “I can imagine not. What brought you to the museum to begin with?” His reason seemed pretty foolish now. He really thought abstract art could inspire new recipes. What he should have been doing, was watching cooking shows. But, every bad thing has something good. In this case, Cleo or Reine!

“I go to Barrie U.”

“In truth? I as well!” he exclaimed. He seemed to have found someone he could hang out with on campus, “I am majoring in Cooking and minoring in Business.” This could be fun. He had no idea what Psychology was though. Did they have something like that in Montreal’s colleges? A confused look came over his face as the reached the coffeeshop. The sound of guitar and voice filled Tristan’s ears as he opened the do. The place had a few steps down before you reached the counter.

“Bonjour! What do you have today for sweets?” he asked looking over his shoulder at Cleo with a smile. The cook began to list off things in French and their costs. Tristan had his eye on a piece of Rhum cake and some french vanilla coffee. He looked back at Cleo and asked, “Reine, what would you like?”

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word count: 321
notes: I sooo want to be Tristan right now xD

[CLEO EVERETT]

Wow, it was really cold out. Why did New York have to be so cold? More specifically, why today? Like, the one day she decided to wear a skirt, it had to be cold. That was just perfect. It was peachy. Dandy, even. Maybe it would be better to stop whining about the weather. If she stopped thinking about it, she would probably stop noticing it. Stupid cold weather. Okay. Done. Cleo pulled a hand through her hair, also wishing it weren’t windy. It wasn’t that it was that bad. It was just bad enough to tangle the vibrant red locks, just bad enough to make her need a brush. When could she move back to California? Soon? Yeah. Hopefully. Oh. Tristan was talking. Yeah, it was probably best to listen to him. When had she become so one-track minded? That was different. “Uhm…” Did she even have an answer to that question? “I guess I was looking for something new to do. My daily routine is pretty… well, not boring. It’s just the same thing every day.” Cleo could’ve changed that if she really wanted to, but she didn’t. Especially not after this whole getting-lost-in-the-museum disaster.

Cleo could see the sign for the coffee shop now, realizing what it was she should be looking for. There weren’t any other signs nearby that she could associate with coffee and if this wasn’t the shop he meant, they’d be going in anyway. Because it was freezing. “Wait, cooking?” Cleo exclaimed, looking at him, surprised and excited. “Do you bake?” It was probably a self-explanatory answer but best to ask anyway. It would be nice to try some baked goods that weren’t from Gingey’s or Starbucks for once. “I’m taking a Baking class at Barrie,” she commented, as if suddenly remembering. “It was a spur of the moment sort of choice.” Cleo stepped into the coffee shop, immediately greeted with the smell of coffee (duh) and pastries, along with the sounds of a guitar and somebody singing. It was already perfect. Cleo smiled and followed Tristan to the counter slowly, glancing around, soaking it all in. Why had she never heard of this place before? It was adorable.

Cleo heard only half of what the chef listed and she felt bad, until she realized she didn’t understand a word he was saying anyway. Why hadn’t she taken French? Or any language, for that matter? Her mother had always insisted on Spanish and Cleo had insisted that she would never use it. Oh well. “Er… I’ll just have what you’re having.” She answered, smiling sweetly.

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words; 432
notes; lalala~
outfit; oo la la

[MICHEAL "MIKEY" COLBERT]

“Yes, my days are boring as well. I thought a trip to the museum would help me find some inspiration for a project but I only get lost,” he frowned for a moment but was smiling again as soon as the smell of the coffeeshop hit his nose. He actually hadn’t been in a while. Working and studying had him busy all the time.

“Wait, cooking? Do you bake?”

"Yes, all the time. I would be at loss without an oven,” he answered cheerfully. He let the music fill his ears and was glad that he came back here. Even a cook at some point likes to eat other people’s food.

“I’m taking a Baking class at Barrie, It was a spur of the moment sort of choice.” Cleo said suddenly.

Tristan’s face lit up. “A very wise decision. You can make many friends when you know how to make pastries.” He laughed. The warmth of the store defrosted his nose and fingers. Everything had the aroma of fresh coffee. Tristan was talking to the cashier when a thought hit him.
“I am teaching a baking class this semester! Perhaps you are in it? That would be fun.” He looked back to the cashier and ordered. “Deux gâteaux et du café Rhum vanille française s'il vous plaît.”

The man looked at Cleo and winked at Tristan. “Dix cinquante,” he said. Tristan nodded and pulled out his wallet to pay.
“Vous êtes très chanceux d'avoir une belle dame. Bien la traiter,” the cashier advised with a sly smile.

Tristan laughed rubbing the back of his neck. “No no no, qu'elle est mon amie, mais oui, elle est très belle,” he explained.

The man handed Tristan his change and said to Cleo, “Food will be out soon. Enjoy the music.”

Tristan forgot that Cleo didn’t understand them. He was pretty grateful for it. The music changed to a cheerful song and swept away the awkward moment. Tristan gently took Cleo’s hand and led her to a table next to the musician. “It seems you haven’t been here before,” he acknowledged while pulling out a chair for her. “Have you?”


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word count: 357
notes: derp. Google translate this and you'll go aw :3

[CLEO EVERETT]

“I suppose getting lost could lead to inspiration. I mean, it’s never happened to me.” She shrugged, unable to bring any instances to mind. The last time she’d been lost (not including today) had been a long while ago while trying to find her way back to Baum Academy. That was the last time she’d decided to walk instead of hailing a cab (unless she definitely knew where she was going. She had not known where she was going. It was supposed to be the movies with some friends except that she’d assumed she knew where she was supposed to go but, well, she hadn’t.) New York was too big and confusing. Cleo looked at him sharply, her heart pitter-patting. “Ohmygosh, you should totally bake something for me.” Taking a culinary class in college or not, Cleo still loved tasting pastries made by anybody else. It was why she loved bakeries so much.

Cleo laughed. “I suppose. I don’t bake as much as I’d like to.” She hardly ever told her friends that she did bake. Maybe it was because then they’d ask her for some cookies or something and she just would never want to give them away. That was probably it. “I’ve definitely made friends in that class, though.” Cleo looked around some more, becoming aware of little things with each glance. The tableware all matched and the glasses had little designs. Cleo nodded, slightly distracted. “That would be brilliant, hun. I would feel so cool for knowing you.” She laughed a little, imagining the other girls in class just positively swooning over Tristan’s accent.

Once they started speaking French, Cleo half paid attention, half continued to look around. It wasn’t like she knew what they were saying anyway. Belle meant beautiful though, right? She’d learned that from ‘Beauty and the Beast.’ Her curiosity peaked, Cleo glanced back to Tristan and the cashier. Right in time it would seem for the cashier spoke to Cleo next. She smiled at him, “thank you.” Tristan took her hand and led the way to a table near the musician. Cleo had always liked watching people play guitar or piano or violin. It was fun to just watch them in their element, Cleo shook her head as she sat. “Thank you. And no, I haven’t. It’s adorable, though. I think it may have to become one of my regular spots.”

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words; 398
notes; awwee<3
outfit; oo la la