The plan for the day was to visit the seaside glory, Mont Saint Michel. Mont Saint Michel - in the various pictures Lucy saw on Instagram, Google, and Pinterest - was supposed to be this medieval fortress on a marsh surrounded by the low tides, and it was supposed to be gorgeous. The UNESCO site was - in her simple words - made for the imagination of loyal knights, princesses, and wars and maybe something that would belong in Game of Thrones or Lord of the Rings.
Current time was 06:45 AM, and it was a cold day in Paris, but the sky was beautiful and blue. Settling her backpack on her back, Lucy made sure she wore comfortable walking shoes, a good pair of jeans, an okay looking t-shirt, a sweater (just in case it got cold because the castle was situated in the middle of a marsh), and of course, hair ties and a good hat. She was still kind of sleepy, but as her fingers massaged the soft, tender skin just under her eyes, Lucy felt that she could make it throughout the day. It was going to be an easy, slow day today.
No parents. No wedding. Just vacationing. With a friend.
Her manicured fingers lightly pulled and rubbed her skin with lotion in upward motions as she began prepping her No-Makeup Makeup Routine. First, Lucy began with an expensive base lotion before moving onto a hydrating lotion-primer, and then she began applying a base coat of equally expensive liquid foundation make-up.
As her brown eyes peered at herself in the mirror, Lucy wished she was a little bit more fair. Less tan. More like those girls with the big eyes, and ghost-like skin. She laughed, cracking a smile at her thought. Perhaps she didn't want to be too pale, but she did wish her skin was a shade or two lighter. A little part of her was envious of everything she found beauty in, and hateful of everything she found a flaw within her.
After pressing the wet sponge blender coated with her foundation to her skin, she began the familiar upward motion. She started with her nose first, getting all the nooks and cranies. Lucy then moved onto her cheeks and swiped upwards to her forehead. After she finished her forehead, Lucy pressed the sponge against her sharp, point chin and began covering her jawline and neck for full coverage.
She then grabbed her concealer and began gentling, dabbing the brush against her blemishes before blending it with the base layer.
Makeup is an art, or so Lucy believed as she lined her eyes with a medium-thick eyeliner and three coats of mascara. Her lashes were too short, and she didn't feel like putting on the fake lashes. It was too much effort for a No-Makeup Makeup Routine.
Lucy smiled widely into the mirror and grabbed a soft brush as she picked a peachy blush for her cheeks. And then she dusted a layer of foundation powder on top to make sure she looked even. Lucy moved her chin up and down, side to side - making sure her face looked even and perfect.
And finally, her final touch was a tinted chap stick that was a bright cherry red called Cherrific!
Smacking her lips twice, Lucy was ready to show her face to the world.
Lucy took one final look at herself in the mirror before she knocked on the connecting door twice, calling out his name.
"Ryan?" she said, knocking on the door once more when she didn't hear his response. He was usually a morning person, and he was also a Night Owl. Did she dare invade his personal space in a foreign country? With her hand on the handle, she twisted it and peeked into the dark room. It seemed he was still sleeping...
Or she assumed so. The shape under the blanket was definitely Ryan unless he brought a guest over last night. Frowning a bit, Lucy whispered, "Ryan? Get up. We have a train to catch in 40 minutes."
When the body underneath the blankets didn't stir to her calling, Lucy's frown deepened. The tickets were expensive... Carefully Lucy placed a hand where his shoulder should have been and she began gently pushing him awake.
"Get up," her voice was soft and coaxing, but the body didn't respond or stir to her gentle commands.
And then her voice got louder and harder as she began using more force.
"Get. Up," demanded Lucy, gritting her teeth. Why was his shoulder so hard? It was like pushing a wall.
"Ryan Wong, you get- UUUPPPAAAAH!"
There was a hot, iron clasp around her wrist as she fell down onto the soft mattress below. There was a bit of bounce in her landing, but her eyes couldn't blink away from the dark, heavy stare that heated eyes were giving her as she settled down and quieted against the fluffy pillow. His mesmerizing gaze was intense, and a blush settled over her cheeks as they continued to stare at each other in the dark room. She didn't look away as she bid him a good morning in her soft voice.
"I'll get up."
His voice was throaty. He then closed his eyes and reopened them as there was a twinkle in his eyes as he whispered, "Good morning."
He removed his vice-like grip from her person, and instantly, she lost the heat that was there as Ryan did as he promised. He got up. His hand rubbed the back of his neck, covering his mouth as he yawned. The blanket covering fell from him and his lean muscles were bared to Lucy's eyes as they got wider at the surprise.
She knew he was handsome. She knew he worked out. She knew his physique was in top shape.
Lucy knew all of this, but why were her cheeks burning?
Her eyes remained locked him as he got up from the bed, shifting the bed a bit, and she was - just a tiny bit - disappointed when she saw fabric covering his buttocks and gluteus maximus. She could have swore there was a little swing to his hips as he made his way over to the bathroom.
And it was only after the bathroom door shut close, and she could hear the shower head running, Lucy let out a strangled cry, gritting her teeth as she resisted the urge to cover her face. She had more self-discipline than this. She was not going to ruin her makeup over a lustful moment of bare skin.
Lucy and Ryan made the 07:25 AM train to Rennes in one piece. One of them was happier than the other, but nonetheless, Lucy still had a good time despite the gloating look of pleasure on Ryan's pleasant looking face. Lucy focused on her phone most of the time, avoiding Ryan's curious looks as she gave out random French facts.
"Did you know," Lucy always began when she told him a random fact on the internet as she charged her phone via one of the ports provided to them on the high speed train. "the Abbey was built between the 11th and 16th century?"
He would just smile, lean back into the seat, and look at her as he said, "No, I didn't."
This would repeat for a bit before Lucy quieted down and put away her phone, looking at the passing scenery. From what she saw, France was very green.
"Lucy," Ryan said.
"Hmm?" Lucy's eyes didn't stray.
"I think we should get married."
Her heart stopped, and her eyes grew large as she turned to face a very serious Ryan. She narrowed her eyes at him, accusing him with all sorts of reasons already as she spat out one word.
"Why?"
"Before you overanalyze everything and give me a convoluted reason as to why we should not be more than what we are now," said Ryan. "Let me speak first. You and I have known each other for five years now - I like you, you like me. I'm economically sound, so are you. We have visited each other's homes, done dishes for each other, cooked for each other, I've met your mother many times. You'll meet my parents and family many more times in the future. I mean what have we not done with each other? We vacation together all the time."
"We don't sleep with each other," Lucy replied with the most deadpan look.
"We have slept with each other before," he corrected her as matter-of-factly. He even looked quite smug about it.
"You know what I meant," Lucy said, her voice raising just a bit as she looked around the car only to see that it was him and her alone. "We have never had sex together."
"I don't think sex is needed for an emotionally satisfying relationship. Or at least, not like one that we have," he said very seriously. "Sex can always come at a later time."
Lucy then sighed, and slumped back into her chair as she began rubbing circles on her temples. A headache was forming already and she sighed many times more before putting on her best professional self.
"Thank you for the consideration," she said seriously. "But I do not think this will work out like you imagine."
"Why?" he countered this time, genuinely curious as to the doubts that plagued the pretty woman's mind.
Lucy sighed and began listing all the negatives of a marriage between them. "Well, you're like super rich. Your family is super rich. Your family owns the largest auto parts manufacturing company in Taiwan. And I'm like the American Dream. I'm the success story. Model Minority. Not a legacy or whatever they call the kids of super rich people. And like you're super rich."
"So the only reason why you don't want to marry or date me is because my family and I have a lot of money?"
"Well, yeah."
"Huh," he said, folding his hands together like a cool businessman on K-dramas. "Well, thank you for not trying to go after my money."
"You're welcome," she said honestly. "You're a swell dude. Like if you weren't so rich, I would have dated and proposed to you already."
He gave her a crooked, awkward smile as he was now the one to look outside the window. He then said, "You know, I'm not used to this."
"Honesty?"
He rolled his eyes, and turned over once more to her as he said, "I'm used to that. You made sure I was used to it when we met."
Lucy simply shrugged and placed her hand underneath her chin.
"I was expecting socioeconomics to be a perk because all of the other girls really liked-"
"How generous you were?" Lucy finished for him, raising a brow at him. She was looking at him expectantly as if she was challenging him to confirm her words, or change her mind. Lucy's heart was pounding and her blood was racing hard and fast as if she was running. This was Fight or Flight.
"That's one way of putting it," he said gently. The loving twinkle in his eyes never faltered or dulled with each passing second.
"No more princesses for you?" she giggled nervously.
"No more princesses," he confirmed very seriously, nodding his head gravely.
"You prefer Cinderellas?" she laughed. She laughed herself into a riot as teardrops leaked out the corners of her eyes. She didn't know why she found it so funny. She couldn't stop her laughing or tears as the heavy droplets slid down one by one on each cheek. It was only when her tears and laughs ceased that Ryan confessed honestly.
"I just prefer you. You're my only choice."
