Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 52

Don’t let us get sick, don’t let us get old, don’t let us get stupid, all right? Just make us be brave and make us play nice, and let us be together tonight. — Don’t Let Us Get Sick, Warren Zevon

“What did you say this was called, again?” Thomas asked. They were lying down facing each other, their nose touching just the slightest bit.
“Eskimo kissing,” Aimee answered as she wiggled her nose against his with a grin.
“I…” Thomas turned away and sneezed. He sheepishly peeked back at Aimee.
“Gesundheit,” she whispered as she pecked his nose.
“Sorry, it must be all that rain,” he grimaced.
“I’ll fix you some tea and chicken soup to make sure you’re all healthy tomorrow,” Aimee said, grabbing her t-shirt and pulling it over her naked body.
“I’ll come with you,” Thomas started to get up, only to be pushed back down to bed.
“Remember what I told you about not liking it when people look at me cook? Besides, you need to rest,” she smiled teasingly and kissed his lips.
“But you’re leaving in a couple of hours!” Thomas protested, sitting up.
“Thomas…” Aimee started to say, but the look on his face was determined. She gave up.
“Okay, fine, let’s go, I’m getting hungry!”

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 51

<strong>Give me one reason to stay here and I’ll turn right back around because I don’t want leave you lonely but you got to make me change my mind.</strong> — Give Me One Reason, Tracy Chapman

*phone rings*

“Hey”
“Haha, no, I’m just chillin! It’s raining so I’m on the couch having some tea. How are you?”
“That’s great! I’m awesome, really enjoying myself here!”
“Oh don’t be silly, of course I’m coming back tomorrow”
“Sure, why don’t you. At your place?”
“My place? Ha. Okay, why not, I guess. But you’ll have to help me clean up”
“Yeah, okay. Hey, listen, Dave, I’ve got to go”
“Yes, no, still going to stay indoors”
“Because it wouldn’t be very nice to make Thomas just listen to me talking on the phone now would it?”
“I know, but really, we can talk tomorrow. I have a long train ride”
“Oh you’re right, I did book the quiet train. Well we could still text”
“I’ll be back in Geneva very very soon, Davey, what is wrong with you?”
“Yes, I miss you too, and everyone else. I’ll see you soon”
“Okay. Bye, Davey!”

“Sorry, that was Dave, my friend from Geneva”
“He likes you, doesn’t he?”
“Well of course he does, he’s my best friend. OH, you mean… no, I don’t think so”
“I do. But he’s not here, and you obviously think he’s just a friend… and my goodness Aimee don’t do that, you look irresistible!”
“Hmmm”
“Mmm”
“I think you’re getting really good at kissing, how good are you at other stuff?”
“If you stay, you might be able to find out”
“Really. Why not now?”
“Oh. Wow!”
“Shh… kiss me”
“Where?”
“All over.”

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 50

The last and final moment is yours, that agony is your triumph! — Ballad of Sacco & Vanzetti, Stéphane Pompougnac

When Aimee finished showering, Thomas had prepared some tea. She gratefully picked up the warm cup and curled up on the couch. Noir immediately jumped up and curled up next to her. Thomas watched her and smiled, sipping on his own cup of tea, a towel wrapped over his shoulders. Aimee smiled back, but then her expression became somber.

“Thomas…”
“Hmm?”
“Would now be a good time to get back to that discussion on what we’re doing?” she said cautiously.

Their eyes met, and both knew they didn’t really want to talk about it, except perhaps it’s best if they did. Thomas took a gulp of tea. Aimee slowly sipped on hers. The cat had fallen asleep.

“Can I shower first?” he finally asked.

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 49

Viens chez moi te mettre à l’abri, on ira sous les draps écouter la pluie*.
— Mon Paradis, Christophe Maé

They decided to have a race back to the apartment. Aimee was ahead, but Thomas caught up with her and grabbed her hand, and they ran together, and arrived together, drenched and out of breath but happier than ever.

“Aimee…” Thomas muttered as he held the door open for her. She turned to face him.
“Yes, Thomas?”
“Thank you,” he whispered.

*Come to my place and put yourself under the cover, we’ll snuggle under the sheets and listen to the rain.

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 48

Que no has conocido a nadie que te bese como yo, que no hay otro hombre en tu vida, que de ti se beneficie… depende.*
— Depende, Jarabe de Palo

“Should we head home?”
“Why?”
“Why?? Because we’re soaking wet and the wind is blowing and we might get sick otherwise.”
“Ah. Good point. Can I get just one more kiss?”
“You can get a thousand more once we’re home.”

But he gave her another kiss right there and then anyway.

That you have not known anyone who would kiss you like I did, that there is no other man in your life who is rich from being with you… it depends.

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 47

J’avoue j’en ai bave pas vous, mon amour, avant d’avoir eu vent de vous, mon amour. Ne vous deplaise, en dansant la Javanaise, nous nous aimions le temps d’une chanson.*
— La Javanaise, Serge Gainsbourg

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music,” the quote by Nietzsche came to Aimee’s mind as she saw the facial expression of most people who were rushing down the street, trying to get wherever they were heading quickly as the rain poured and the wind blew. They were dancing, she and Thomas, to the same music, despite the fact that the only sound to be heard was the pouring rain. He smiled at her, twirled her, and caught her in his embrace. They kissed, the rain disappeared, the wind disappeared, the people disappeared. They kissed some more.

*I admit I went through hell, didn’t you my love? Before I met you, my love. Whether it pleases your or not, while dancing the Javanaise, we loved each other for the length of a song.

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 46

Slow down, you crazy child, and take the phone off the hook and disappear for awhile. It’s all right, you can afford to lose a day or two. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?
— Vienna, Billy Joel

“OH!”
“What? What happened? Are you okay?”
“I just realized I forgot my phone…”
“So? Is there something important you’re waiting for?”
“Well…”
“What could possibly be more important than spending time with me?”
“Do you really want me to answer that question?”
“Of course not. Nothing is more important than that.”

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 45

I once loved a woman, a child I’m told. I give her my heart but she wanted my soul, but don’t think twice, it’s all right.
— Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright, Bob Dylan

Dave stared at his phone again, reading the message from Aimee for the tenth or so time this morning. He hits the reply button and starts typing.

“I love you, Aimee…”

Clear text.

He wonders what Aimee is doing right now.

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 44

Clear liquor and cloudy-eyed, too early to say goodnight… You have stolen my heart. — Stolen, Dashboard Confessional

They stood under the awning in front of the apartment, rain pouring down so hard it was almost impossible to hear each other.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Thomas asked.
“Are you?” Aimee asked back with a smile.

Thomas smiled at Aimee and leaned forward to kiss her. He then held her waist and with a gentle, quick movement, he moved her so that they were kissing in the rain.

Il est trop tard (the narrative) — 43

The thunder makes her contemplate, she hears a noise behind the gate, perhaps a letter with a dove, perhaps a stranger she could love. — Her Morning Elegance, Oren Lavie

“Is it raining?”
“Yeah… pretty heavily, actually… it’s almost like a thunderstorm.”
“I guess that means we’re staying in today?”
“Or we could go out and dance in the rain.”
“You know… I always wanted to be kissing in the rain, it just seems so romantic.”
“Shall we?”