#rippedscript

“Cal!”

He grins, looking incredibly proud of himself. “’M sorry, you just looked like a Renoir.” He’s been talking about painters ever since your trip to the Louvre yesterday, where - surprise - he took pictures of you next to all his favourites. 

This wouldn’t be so annoying if you had something to show for your days, too, but Calum’s been determined to stay behind the camera this trip. You can’t really blame him, there’s been an awful lot of photoshoots lately, but you’re in the most beautiful city in the world with the most beautiful boy who is somehow making a face in all the candids you take. 

“You’re infuriating.” You say, bringing out your phone to take a picture of him looking at his phone. It’s not meant to be pretty, it’s meant to be payback, but somehow he looks good there, too. Ugh. 

Calum looks up and smiles. You make sure to get a picture of that. “Tu aimes moi.” He says, in his very best French accent (which is not very good). He’s been trying to say that a lot in French, and maybe it makes you nervous, a little, because he hasn’t been able to say anything about “love” in your common tongue. Does he mean- you’ve been telling yourself that French doesn’t really have a word for ”like”, but still. 

“Your French is garbahge.” You say, instead.

Candids aside, you spend a great day together. Calum holds your hand as you walk along the Seine, stopping at the booksellers and to look at the love locks on the bridges. Paris is- you’ve never been before, but Calum has, some. It’s just as beautiful as he promised you. You did all the touristy things yesterday, so today is just for you to explore together. Paris is all winding streets and wind off the river and hiding in cafes to keep out of the occasional rainfall. Calum gets caught up in it all, buys you a rose in the Latin Quarter and a necklace in Champs-Elisieé when you’re not looking, and although you protest that he doesn’t have to, it’s nice. You wander hand in hand until the sun goes down, until the Eiffel Tower is lit up like a lighthouse for when you’re ready to meander home. 

You’re on another bridge over the river when Calum drops your hand. “I wanna take a picture of you like this,” he says, getting his phone out of his pocket, but you shake your head. 

“No way, it’s your turn. Get over there,” you say, pressing the rose into his hand and pushing him back towards the railing. The city glitters behind him, but even through the lens of the camera he is all you can look at. On a whim, you start to film as he plays with the rose. 

The red of the rose makes his lips look even more inviting. “D’you want it?” He offers, holding it out to you, and when you shake your head he sticks it between his teeth like he’s about to tango. He doesn’t seem goofy when he does it, but maybe he’s just tired, you know your feet are starting to ache. 

You post that video later that night, but you don’t include what comes next. 

Calum holds the rose out to you again, but you don’t take it. “No, c’mon, you look so good.” You complain, so he doesn’t move from his spot in front of the Tower. 

“You can see me fine?” He asks, still model-esque. 

“I can see you fine. I mean, it’s Paris,” you joke, “‘s the city of light.”

Calum’s been giving Blue Steel to the camera, but at that he glances away. “It’s the city of love,” he mumbles, and before you can reply he turns back to you. “I’m in love with you.”

That’s the first time he says it. It’s not the last. 

“I just- I needed to say it, and if-” Calum’s cut off when you surge forwards to kiss him, so swiftly that he has to hold on to the railing to keep you both from tipping over. 

“I love you,” you say once you break for air, and the rose falls to the ground as he grabs your hips and pulls you in to kiss again.