One sunny morning, Amelia decided to venture further afield. She rented a bicycle and set off to explore the nearby villages. The roads were winding, the scenery breathtaking. She cycled past vineyards, olive groves, and fields of sunflowers, their golden faces turned towards the sun.
She arrived at a small, picturesque village called Gordes, perched on a hilltop overlooking the valley. She parked her bike and wandered through the narrow, cobbled streets, admiring the ancient stone buildings and the stunning views.
As she was browsing in a small art gallery, she bumped into someone. Literally.
"Oh, I am so sorry!" a deep, melodious voice exclaimed.
Amelia looked up and found herself face-to-face with a man. He was tall, with dark, tousled hair and eyes the colour of the Mediterranean Sea. He had a strong jawline, a kind smile, and a captivating presence that immediately made her heart skip a beat.
"No, it was my fault," she replied, flustered. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
He chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Don't worry, it happens. Especially in these narrow streets. Are you enjoying your visit to Gordes?"
"It's beautiful," Amelia breathed, still slightly dazed. "I'm Amelia, by the way."
"Antoine," he said, extending a hand. "It's a pleasure, Amelia."
His handshake was firm, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. She felt a warmth spreading through her chest, a feeling she hadn't experienced in… well, in a very long time.
They ended up talking for hours. They discovered a shared love of art, literature, and travel. Antoine, she learned, was a local artist, a painter who captured the beauty of Provence on canvas. He had a studio in Gordes, and he invited her to visit.
The next day, Amelia found herself standing in front of Antoine's studio. It was a charming space, filled with light and the scent of turpentine and paint. Canvases lined the walls, showcasing vibrant landscapes and portraits.
Antoine welcomed her with a smile, and they spent the afternoon talking and laughing. He showed her his work, explaining his techniques and the inspiration behind his paintings. He had a way of making her feel comfortable and at ease, of making her feel seen and understood.
As she watched him work, his hands moving gracefully across the canvas, she felt a strange pull towards him, a connection she couldn't quite explain. She found herself captivated by his passion, his creativity, and the way he looked at the world.
That evening, they had dinner at a small restaurant in Gordes, a candlelit affair with delicious food and endless conversation. As they talked, Amelia found herself opening up to him, sharing her dreams, her fears, and her past. He listened intently, offering words of comfort and understanding.
By the end of the evening, Amelia knew that she was falling for Antoine. Hard.