The sun was setting over Paris, turning the Seine River into a big, golden ribbon.
Gaesha walked along the water's edge, her hands busy holding a fat paper bag stuffed with bread and cheese from the market.
She still wore her apron from the bakery, flour smudged on the edges.
She loved this time of day—the soft light, the cool breeze, the little boats drifting by.
She hummed a happy tune, swinging her bag back and forth as she strolled.
"Paris, you're so pretty," Gaesha said out loud, talking to no one but herself. "You're like a big, shiny dream that never ends."
She stopped by a wooden bench to fix her shoe. The lace was loose again, and she wobbled a bit as she bent down.
"Stupid laces," she grumbled under her breath. "You're always tripping me up. Why can't you just stay tied?"
That's when a voice cut through the air—low, calm, and somehow familiar.
"Careful," it said. "You'll fall right into the river if you're not watching."
Gaesha looked up fast, and there he was: Kent Sivan.
He stood just a few steps away, hands tucked deep in his pockets, his gray coat looking neat and perfect as always.
His blue eyes watched her, steady and quiet, like he was studying something. She blinked, then broke into a huge grin.
"Kent!" Gaesha shouted, popping up so quick her bag tipped. A loaf of bread tumbled out and rolled onto the path. "Oops! Oh no! Hi there! What are you doing out here by the river?"
Kent bent down slow, picked up the bread, and handed it back to her. "Walking," he said simply. "What about you? What are you doing?"
"Same thing!" Gaesha said, shoving the bread back into her bag with a little laugh. "Well, walking and chatting to myself, mostly. I do that all the time. Do you ever talk to yourself, Kent?"
"No," he said, looking out at the river instead of her. "I don't talk much at all."
"Oh, I do!" Gaesha said brightly. She started walking again, and Kent fell into step beside her without a word. "I talk all day long—to my bread, to my customers, even to my cat! Well, I don't really have a cat, but if I did, I'd talk to it nonstop. What about you? Do you have a cat, Kent?"
"No," he said. "No pets for me."
"That's too bad," Gaesha said, tilting her head at him. "I think you'd look cute with a cat. Maybe a grumpy one, you know, to match you a little."
"I'm not grumpy," Kent said. His voice stayed flat, but his eyes flicked over to her for a second.
"Sure, sure," Gaesha said, giggling. "You're just… serious, that's all. I don't mind serious people. They're good for me. They balance me out because I'm such a mess, you know."
"I noticed that," Kent said. "The éclairs—remember?"
Gaesha clapped her hands together, nearly dropping her bag again.
"I'm so, so sorry about it, Kent," she said. "Did your suit make it through okay after all that chocolate?"
"Yes," he said. "The dry cleaner fixed it up fine."
"Good, good!" Gaesha said, letting out a big breath. "I felt awful about it. You looked so mad that day. Were you really mad at me?"
"A little bit," Kent said. "But it's fine now. Don't worry."
"Phew, what a relief," she said.
Gaesha stopped by the railing, leaning over to watch a boat glide past.
"I love this river so much," she said. "It's so calm and peaceful. Not like me at all—I'm loud, right, Kent?"
He stood next to her, hands still in his pockets. "Yes," he said. "You're very loud."
Gaesha laughed again, loud enough that a bird nearby flew off. "You're so honest! I like that about you, Kent. Most people just smile at me and nod when I ramble on. But you don't do that. Why not?"
"I don't smile a lot," Kent said. "And I don't nod unless I really mean it."
"That's fair," Gaesha said, nodding herself. "So, what do you do when you're not walking by pretty rivers like this? You're an architect, right? Mark told me about it."
"Yes," he said. "I fix old buildings. Like the chateau I'm working on."
"That's so cool!" Gaesha said, her eyes lighting up. "I fix old recipes, kind of. Well, I make them better, I guess. Like my grandma's cookies—I added chocolate chips to them. She'd probably be mad at me for changing things, but they sell so fast now."
Kent gave a single nod. "That's smart," he said.
"Thanks, Kent!" Gaesha said, beaming at him. "So, tell me about this chateau. Is it big? Is it spooky? Does it have any ghosts wandering around?"
"It's old," he said. "And big. No ghosts, though."
"Boo," Gaesha said, pouting a little. "I was hoping for ghosts. Paris needs some fun, spooky stories. What's your favorite part of that chateau, Kent?"
"The windows," he said. "They're tall and let in lots of light."
"Nice choice," Gaesha said. "I like light too. My bakery's got this one big window I love. I sit there and watch people go by all day. Do you ever watch people, Kent?"
"No," he said. "I'm too busy working."
"You should try it sometime," she said. "It's fun! Like, look over there." Gaesha pointed across the river at a man juggling bright orange oranges. "See that guy? He's so happy doing that. It makes me happy just watching him."
Kent looked where she pointed, then back at her. "You're easy to please," he said.
"Maybe I am," Gaesha said, shrugging. "Or maybe I just like the little things in life. Like this right now—walking with you, Kent. It's nice, don't you think?"
He didn't answer right away. Kent stared at the water, his face staying still. "It's just walking," he said after a moment.
"Not to me it isn't," Gaesha said, her voice softening. "It's Paris. It's the sunset. It's you here with me. That's special, Kent."
"You talk a lot," he said, his tone dry.
"I know I do!" Gaesha said, laughing again. "And you don't talk much at all. That's okay with me. I'll talk enough for both of us. Want to hear about my day, Kent?"
He sighed, but he didn't walk away. "Sure," Kent said. "Go ahead."
"Great!" Gaesha said, clapping her hands. "Okay, so this morning, I totally burned a cake—it was a disaster! It turned black as coal, and I had to throw it out. My friend Mia laughed so hard she cried when she saw it. Then I made some bread, and that came out perfect—sold every loaf by noon! Oh, and this cute little kid came in, dropped his cookie on my floor, and said, 'Oops, Gaesha, fix it!' So I gave him a new one for free. Kids are funny, aren't they, Kent?"
"Yes," he said. Kent kept his eyes on the river, but she could tell he was listening.
"What about you?" Gaesha asked. "Got any stories from your day to tell me?"
"No," Kent said. "Just work stuff. Plans and meetings all day."
"That sounds boring," she teased, nudging him with her elbow. "You need some fun in your life, Kent. Have you ever danced by the river?"
"No," he said. "I don't dance at all."
"Never ever?" Gaesha said, her eyes going wide. "Come on, you've got to try it! Here, dance with me!" She grabbed his arm and tugged gently.
Kent pulled back quick. "No way," he said. "I'd look stupid out here."
"No one cares!" Gaesha said, waving her hands around. "It's Paris, Kent! People dance all the time! Come on, just a little dance with me!"
"I don't even know how," Kent said, his voice getting sharp now.
"Okay, okay," she said, letting go of his arm fast. "No dancing then. We'll just keep walking. You're safe with me, I promise."
"Good," Kent said. He relaxed a bit, his shoulders dropping down.
They kept walking together, the sky turning a soft pink above them. Gaesha didn't stop talking—she told him about her bakery, her mom back home, and a fluffy dog she saw that morning chasing its tail.
Kent didn't say much back, just "yes" or "no" or a quick nod now and then. But he stayed right there beside her. He didn't leave.
"You're so quiet," Gaesha said after a while, glancing at him. "What's going on in your head, Kent?"
"Work," he said. "It's always work in there."
"Not me at all?" Gaesha asked, grinning big. "Not even a little thought about the éclair girl?"
Kent glanced at her, his blue eyes catching the fading light. "Maybe," he said. "A little bit, I guess."
"Ha!" Gaesha said, pointing at him. "I knew it! You can't forget me, Kent Sivan!"
"You're something," he said. His voice stayed dry, but his eyes softened just a touch.
They reached a stone bridge, and Gaesha stopped walking. "This is where I turn," she said. "I'm heading back to Montmartre. Where are you going, Kent?"
"My hotel," he said, nodding the other way. "It's over there."
"Okay then," Gaesha said, smiling at him. "See you around, Kent Sivan. Don't be too grumpy without me!"
"I'm not grumpy," Kent said. "Goodnight, Gaesha."
"Goodnight!" she said, waving her hand high. She watched him walk off, his tall frame stiff against the pink sunset.
Her heart did a little jump in her chest. Kent was quiet, sure, but he'd stayed with her the whole walk. That had to mean something, didn't it?
Gaesha hugged her bag tight and headed home, humming her tune again, louder this time.