reset

Sanchit nodded rapidly. “Oh yes, maybe my heart rate is a little up from that… but otherwise I’m good!” They said, taking a deep breath as they lifted their back onto the side walk. “I don’t think I’ll be biking again now,” they added. Though that was a lie, they had been raised Dutch, biking was in their blood. They would be back on a bike as soon as possible. It was the fastest way to get to most places. “Crazy storm right? I’ve always wanted to see Paris in snow!”

“I don’t blame you, mine was for you just watching that happen.” Lincoln nodded. “Just glad you’re alright. And if you do ever decide to bike again, I’d wait until this passes for sure. Crazy how people take their cars out right now and think nothing of it.” He shook his head with a scoff at the nerve of that driver, especially in the current weather conditions. “Yeah, one of the strangest I’ve seen since I’ve lived here. But good for your sake to see snow here. Are you just passing through the city or..?” 

“It’s not the hospital, but we do know First Aid,” Nephi said with a nod, waiting for the other to get a better foothold. “Careful though, it’s a very easy way to break bones.” Or skulls. He hoped the older and more fragile part of the population followed the news and stayed indoors. He would bring some food to the Mosque later, offer his help too to distribute it to people who needed it. “Weird weather right? I hope the snow stays, I’ve seen Paris in the snow a few times, and it’s very pretty. Also completely deserted most of the time.”

“Exactly, especially for someone like me who almost just did a face-plant right outside.” Lincoln shook his head at himself. Figures he’d still wanted to make do with his promise to a particular client for work, even when a freak blizzard decided. “Good point. Because I probably almost did that too.” The last thing he would need was to break any bones in the situation too of course. “Definitely. This winter really wanted to make an ending I guess.” He laughed. “The deserted part is kind of nice to see for a change. — How long have you lived here?” 

Margo snorted into her wine glass, giving her new companion a dull look. “I know, right? I should be lucky I had a date at all.” She finished off by matching his sarcasm, rolling her eyes for good measure. “My friend thinks I’m lonely. I’m not, but that’s what she thinks.” She didn’t want to confirm outload that she was, in fact, a bit lonely. She had worked tirelessly for the past few years, trying to fill the large, empty shoes that her father left behind. Her career had become her life and her social life had dissolved to lunches and dinners with potential clients. That didn’t mean she wanted to be forced to sit in front of some lowlife while he regaled her with how amazing he was. “Frankly, I’d be happier sitting at him with a bottle of whatever this wine is.” She said, turning her glass to peer at the dark red liquid.

“See? You get it too.” Lincoln had to laugh as she matched his blatant sarcasm over the explanation of her date that had unfortunately gone awry. “It’s exactly why dating has just become…I don’t know, more of a nuisance to go through than anything now.” His shoulders shrugged. Then again, that was coming from his weary self about it all with a broken engagement long behind him. “But in all seriousness, this was his problem, not yours. Sorry you had to waste your time and sit through all of that.” He insisted with a defiant nod. Those sorts of encounters were another reason why he wasn’t all that keen. “Wow. Are our friends the same people?” He mused with a small grin. “They all think the same about me. Their match-making skills are also kind of..well, questionable.” Lincoln proceeded to hold up his own glass. “I’ll give you a cheers to that.” 

-

“I think we can both cheers to that.” Tiago brought his glass to clink against the other man’s, a feeling of mutual understanding for a long day and the joy that pizza could bring at the end of it. When you worked a double shift like he had done, the happiness that cheese and carbs could bring was unmatched. Well, he could think of one or two things that might rival it, but unfortunately that involved a woman and tonight he was too tired for the stresses of Tinder hook ups. The pizza would be his comfort. “That sounds like great news and that we should be celebrating!” Tiago politely caught the attention of a waitress and whispered something to her. “Are you up for a celebratory champagne? On me, of course.”

“Definitely. I will cheers to pizza any time, any day.” Lincoln laughed, raising his now full glass up to clink against the other’s. Clearly, he had run into the right company after long a long a day on the job of meeting potential architecture clients. “Not that I don’t like all the other incredible cuisine this city has to offer, but I think I already know you get what I mean.” He nodded, taking a prolonged sip from his glass, already eagerly reaching his hand over another pizza slice. “Merci, I’m sure your work hours deserve the same, man.” Lincoln’s eyes widened as the guy offered to buy champagne, on him, not wanting to just let him pay for all of it. “I appreciate that, but are you sure? I’m more than willing to at least pick up half of the tab.” 

closed starter for @lincolnrichards​

location: desiree florists

“Take them, they’re free. We usually donate them at the end of the day anyway,” Maeva insisted as she turned the open sign around to signify the closing of Desiree for the day, in spite of the American man’s presence within the café. There was a paper bag with a few croissants and tarts in them on the counter, a situation where everyone won - Lincoln got some snacks for the snowy night, while Desiree avoided food waste. “Not to rush you out hastily, but there’s a weather warning right now and we should probably get going to our homes,” the woman advised as she locked the door that led to her and Luca’s office in the back of the café, grabbing her pea coat and scarf off the rack. “How far from here do you live?” The question was asked more out of curiosity as Maeva didn’t have a car to offer a ride, but before she could await a response from Lincoln a street lamp interrupted her thought process as it came crashing into the cafe, shattering shards of glass across the tiled floors. 

“Oh non, non,” Maeva stuttered, eyes widening as she brought a hand to her forehead. “Je suis désolée, êtes-vous blessé?” 

Despite it being an evening before an impending blizzard, Lincoln still of course didn’t miss his regular stop at Desiree on his way back to his home arrondissement. More than content and countlessly thanking Maeva for the prepared bag of fresh pastries she’d graciously made up for him already, he nodded in agreement, realizing his phone just went off, revealing the confirmed weather alert for the snowstorm that had just come through. “Do you need any help?” Lincoln asked, willing to offer his assistance to her to aid in closing up the shop if needed. But before he could continue to explain that he usually just used the Metro lines or a bus, which likely wouldn’t be looking too good at the moment, a resounding crash instantly curbed both of their attention, one of the shop’s windows shattered by a street lamp. 

He’d already practically jumped to Maeva’s side in that instant, shaking his head as to insist for her not to be sorry at all. “Oui. I’ll be ok. Are you?” Lincoln was much more concerned for her well-being from the shock of what just occurred to the store, not even noticing a minor cut on his left palm from a flying glass shard.

WHERE: near the police station in the centre of the city WITH @paristarters​

Nephi pulled his bomber jacket closer to his body using both hands, shivering a little at the intense wind. There had been a snow storm a few years back, or perhaps more than a few, he remembered being young, and Paris being beautiful. Now the city was empty, people hiding out in their houses and emergency services having their hands full. He reached out when someone close to him almost fell on the icy streets. “Ay, facile là-bas,” he said with a smile, keeping them from the floor. 

He’d been living in Paris for a significant time now, and he’d certainly had a fair share of experience with snow having lived in Boston for most of his life, but this particular snowstorm seemed out of the ordinary. While on his way back to his architecture company, of course his foot nearly slid on a patch of black ice, thankfully balancing himself at the last minute. “Merci. — Guess if I was going to wipe-out, this is one of the best places to do so.” He mused, gesturing towards the nearby station. 

WHERE: outside of a grocery store WITH @paristarters​

Sanchit wasn’t new to snow storms. Though they had seen videos of them in other countries, West-Europe was pretty mild in comparison. It was mostly a lot of wet snow and very very icy roads. To a point where trains would stop driving - which they already did regularly - or people were told not to drive their cars around. Paris was different, people took it way more seriously. While Sanchit, as smart as they were being, was biking. They had to slow down for a car and almost fell on their butt. Despite it, they were laughing, pulling their bike from the ground and sliding to the sidewalk. “That was a good safe right?” 

Usually, Lincoln did do his best to prepare himself much better for when freak weather would occur. Though, he was pretty convinced that even from the newscasts he’d seen from the day before, none predicted for how much the snow had quickly accumulated. And of course he’d run out of some essentials, having to make the icy trek to one of the nearest grocery outlets. Just before heading inside, Lincoln’s eyes caught a biker nearly get hit by a car on the snowy street, but before he could call out to them, they were already moving onto the sidewalk, bike in hand. “Honestly? Best save I’ve seen. — You good?” 

.

He hadn’t even realized that he’d sat down next to Lincoln until the other man spoke up. A genuine smile crept onto his lips, stretching the cut there until it dribbled a bit of blood. For a moment, he took stock of his injuries, of how his body felt and decided quickly that he was okay despite having been beaten. The adrenaline that coursed through his body earlier had left him tired and sore but he didn’t think it was more serious than that. “I think I’m okay,” he spoke quietly to the man, only loud enough to be heard over the music, “sorry to freak you out.” 

“Nah man, you’re good. Just making sure you don’t need 911 or something.” Lincoln remarked, still not entirely convinced that his friend’s abrasions wouldn’t need potentially at least looked at it by a medical professional. But he’d also take Jean’s word for it, let him be the decider. Though at the same time, Lincoln knew the extent of how the fights could get in the lower level of Le.Rouge. Just sucked to see people he knew sustain injuries from them at times. “Was it from downstairs?” He asked, despite already knowing that was already likely. 

Where: Le Rouge 

Time: 9:45PM 

@paristarters​

Bloodied, bruised and utterly spent, all Jean wanted was a drink. His ribs twinged every time he moved and his head spun with each new step to the bar but still he persisted. He wondered, in his state of bloodied pulp, if they’d sell to him but it was a risk he was willing to take. Finally, he made it to the bar and gingerly took a seat and ordered his favorite. “Old Fashioned, please.” 

Lincoln was a frequent regular at Le Rouge, after all, being close friends with the owner had an exceptional amount of perks when it came to the bar and menu. Exactly why he had already made himself comfortable on one of the stools, contemplating whether to head to the lower level to see what was happening there as well. At least that was until, a familiar face came up beside him. “Jean, hey. — Woah. Sure you’re alright, man?”

Pleasantries aside, Serina was thrilled to work with any individuals and contractors alike who showed promise. She was appreciative for Lincoln’s punctuality and organization. It was a wonderful sign for what was to come or at least she hoped it was. The skater had been scorned plenty of times by people who were just hoping to get a moment to secure either a photograph or autograph of her for a loved one who was a fan of hers. It was something she gladly would have given without the ruse, but it was always disappointing having to start from square one. She clapped her hands together in delight nodding at the notion of taking a look at what he’d conjured up. “Absolutely! I can’t wait to see what my words translated to on the blueprint.” She said with a smile. As for the trip? 

A decent portion of it she’d spent with an eye mask and noise cancelling headphones over her ears. The flights were never an issue, but there came a point where she would rather tune out the fact she was so high up in the air on a metal craft. “Pleasant,” She began with a shrug. “No matter how many times I’ve taken the flight I think it felt a bit different because I realized this would be for more than just simply business.” It would finally be a chance for her to embody a sense of home. “Now, what are we looking at?” 

Seeing the amount of enthusiasm displayed by his newest client, Lincoln already felt even more confident in the planning work he’d done from the creative suggestions already made by Serina. He understood the stakes of the situation with the skater having been a renowned public figure in the sports world, but regardless to him, a job was a job and his aim was to always exceed their expectations, regardless of who they were. And so, he’d treat her as just as normally as any other upstanding citizen that went through the architect firm. Maybe it’d even be refreshing for her, considering how busy she herself was. “That’s what I like to hear, I did try to pay homage to your ideas as much as possible too.” 

He lead her over to an empty table in the grand library, all of his blueprints securely carried underneath one of his arms. “That’s good to hear, glad it went smoothly for you.” Lincoln remarked of asking about her recent plane trip. This particular project for Miss Thyssen was also a prominent one being that it would be plans for her new living quarters. “Ok so..” Lincoln trailed, finally placing the stacked boards down, smoothing out one to start. “I have three here, and I figured you could pick, construction-wise, what your first choice might end up being..they’re all keeping to a pretty modern layout.” 

It was late into night and Tiago had found the nearest open pizzeria having just finished a long shift at the hospital. The places open at this time were always a tad questionable, but he had to admit it didn’t taste too bad. Probably because he was starving and already half way through the cheap bottle of red, but he was happy. The doctor topped up his company’s glass, then his own and then grinned at them. “Not so bad, huh?” He swirled the wine in one hand and then settled back in the chair, eyes moving over the other person. “What has you up so late?” It was a reasonable question being that not many tended to eat dinner this late in the night, but he wasn’t complaining as it was nice to have dinner with someone. @paristarters​

As incredible as all the cuisine was in any arrondissement you could find yourself in Paris, there was nothing like some that just seemed like home at times. Tonight had been one of them, after an exceptionally long day of meeting with clients for his next architecture project. Besides, even an order as simple as pizza in France tasted exceptional, miles better than anything that was made back in the States. “Not at all.” Lincoln would certainly drink to that, thanking his newfound company for the refill of his glass, who seemed to have just as much of a long day himself. “Sometimes, food as simple as this is just needed, you know?” He instantly nodded in agreement. “Work. New project, a bunch of new clients.” Lincoln told the other before taking another bite of another pizza piece. 

She swatted at his arm playfully, refusing to concede that she might not always have the surest of footing, even in a city she claimed to know so well. As they scanned the shelves, she almost got lost, taking a moment longer to respond to his question. “Hmm? Oh! I’ve been looking for this new fantasy seriess with a black, female lead that I keep hearing about on bookstagram. But finding it in Englissh around here is proving a little difficult.” she explained, dragging her gaze away from the shelves and shelves of books and forcing herself to focus on the conversation with Lincoln. “Ah, so you’re one of those.” She said, nodding her head as if a puzzle piece about him had just fallen into place. “You enjoy the whole ‘ville de l’amour’ vibe?” she asked, raising a brow at him. 

He elicited a laugh from her swat at him, though noted that Micayla seemed entirely lost in thought while continuing to browse the various books. “Sounds like a best-seller. I get what you mean about them mainly being in French though…” Lincoln nodded. As proud as he was at how much his skills in the language had drastically improved over time with continued practice, it still likely wasn’t to the point of being able to understand a full-length novel, such as the one she was intently on the search for. His eyes widened, looking at her in a puzzled manner at her following remark about him. “What are you getting at with ‘one of those’, Harris?” He grinned. “I don’t know about the whole ‘ville de l’amour’ thing, but the food? Oui, I do very much enjoy those vibes here.” 

✧･ﾟ* ☾

Having someone who was more than a ‘co-worker’ made work bearable for Lida. Lincoln and her go way back and although she had a really good friendship with his ex-fiance that didn’t mean she had to cut ties with him when he did nothing wrong. They both suffered from an unfortunate relationship with their significant others, but they still managed to keep moving forward from all that. Therefore, it was a relief to know that she had the opportunity to work closely with him when it comes to Senol Palace. 

 “Sounds good.” Another good thing about working with Lincoln was that it was easy going as he understood what she wanted and didn’t stall or think twice like some other individuals in this industry. He was able to adapt and deliver and that’s what Lida wanted when it comes to her peers working with her. “You agree because you’re being a good friend.” she countered. “My divorce was messy as fuck. Not that I’m saying it’s a pity competition, but I truly believe you have a better chance at finding ‘the one’…AGAIN.” Blue hues still focused on the barista as she sighed in disappointment, “—Are you sure? You know she’s becoming a chiropractor. She can def break your back in a good way.”  

A cunning smirk graced her lips as she leaned comfortably in her seat and crossed her arms. Of course he’d change the subject. “Mmm, riiight, riiight…Anyways, I have no doubt it’ll go well. In fact, I know that it will be a success based on the pre-bookings we’ve been receiving. Paris Fashion week is next week and that’s where our revenue will thrive. So you’ll be expecting numbers soon enough and hopefully that would help towards whatever you have planned.” 

His eyes truly couldn’t help themselves darting around in various directions, and this was only just the eating establishment connected to Senol Palace, the food already leaving a heavenly aroma in the air surrounding them. And Lida knew how much he also was a complete foodie aside from his day job work for the architecture firm, probably one of the reasons he’d actually stayed put in Paris for this long. Everything about the building already impressed him, not that just seeing the vision she had for the business on paper hadn’t already. “Doesn’t that make me a good friend, though?” He mused with a small grin, crossing his arms as of course Lida only continued on about playing matchmaker for him. “None taken even if it was a pity competition.” Lincoln shrugged, his lips twisting as maybe it was ridiculous at this point to still believe  he had already found the one in his life at one point and that didn’t work out..so why even bother to care all that much about actively dating again? He knew his friend would easily come up with a retaliation to that excuse too. “Are you sure you shouldn’t just make this place a matchmaking company? I think Paris and the whole ‘city of love’ gimmick is really getting to you, Lida..” He jested before letting out a laugh at her own chiropractor hint. “I honestly don’t even know how to take that.” 

“Now that right there, that’s what I like to hear.” Lincoln insisted on Lida speaking of the surefire success with bookings. “I bet. You’re going to be getting a lot of a high-flying crowd in here before long. Sounds good, just let me know when you want to see those plans, got to make they are up to standards for here.” He nodded. “In the meantime, how about some food tasting from the kitchen?” 

      “I would never let you down, monsieur. You know I wouldn’t,” a warm smile crosses his features, then. Fashion had been the greatest form of expression for him, ever since he could remember. He could look at a single person and envision an entire collection or theme that would suit them best. He knows, deep down, he can attribute the artist within to his mother. Every so often, the memory of her sitting at her drawing desk, by the window with an uninterrupted view of the Mediterranean sea. It’s fleeting, and it pains him ever so deeply. So much so, he chooses to shove it all back down, focusing on the situation at hand — the present. “Wow.. now this was made for you.” Moving to adjust the way it sits on Lincoln around the shoulders, he fixes the collar, bringing his gaze to the mirror. “Who wouldn’t want to have you design their project? Suave and well dressed.”

“Exactly why you’re mon ami and the master of fashion.” Lincoln grinned, honestly grateful for having struck up as quick of a friendship as he had with Adrien since moving over to France. On the other hand, he appreciated his friend’s eye for his craft, since Lincoln had the same drive of dedication for his own work, and that quickly became evident between them upon first having spoken to the talented fashion mogul. “A Cadieux piece, made just for me? Now that’s a real honor there.” He practically beamed looking back at himself in the nearby mirror with the latest outfit that’d been chosen and while the necessary adjustments were being made, never not impressed with any of the choices made for him when visiting the designer. Any of Adrien’s pieces could make anyone feel incredible about themselves on any given day. “Merci. All thanks to you, making the time in your busy schedule.”