today was the day, and percy was so nervous. he’s spent the past four months building a life for himself, bopping around from city to city for a little while before he finally fell in love with paris. at that point, his parents were still putting money into his account in hopes that he would come to his senses and return home, so he used the money to buy himself an apartment looking over the seine. it was gorgeous, and for the first time he really loved his life. he loved waking up in the morning and being able to drink a cup of coffee with no disruptions. he loved being able to get ready in the morning without being pricked and prodded by the needle of a tailor. hell, he’d even made friends with a few of the locals, spending most of his evenings strolling up and down the streets, soaking up the vibrant energy of the city. but one thing was missing: alfie.
he’s standing on the pont des arts bridge, the place he told alfie to meet him, waiting for him to show. it had taken so much courage for him to write that letter, and for all he knew his friend could positively despise the sound of his name. he had every right to. but percy needed to see him. he needed to see the way his eyes crinkled and lit up when he smiled, he needed to hear the soft, comforting tone of his voice when he spoke, needed to feel his delicate skin under his fingertips. “come on,” he whispered to himself, bouncing back and forth on the heels of his black leather boots. it wasn’t until moments later he saw the boy walking toward him, and he waved his hand in the air excitedly to motion him over. the closer he got, percy felt like he couldn’t breathe. it was really him, it was really alfie, and he couldn’t stop himself from running the rest of the way over to him, picking up him in his arms and squeezing him tight. “alfie.”
