When Merry shivered in the flight, Damon absentmindedly reduced the AC and offered her alone time.
It was more than she expected from him. Sometimes, Merry felt Damon's eyes on her as she looked out the window. When she finally looked his way, he had fallen asleep, turned toward the window.
Merry soon fell asleep, too.
They got to Paris and there was a hotel ready. A flashy sportscar also. Merry tried to contain her excitement while Damon drove.
"Seatbelt." He instructed.
When they got to the hotel, Merry was tongue-tied.
Damon waited for her to have her bath, and when he later came out of the shower, all wet, he asked if Merry was okay with going out for a drive later.
Merry being so excited didn't hesitate to agree for a drive.
It was 5:47pm.
Damon drove a simple, rented car.
"Did you create a schedule?" Merry asked, from beside him.
"I don't have schedules here," Damon replied. "Just habits."
Merry giggled and talked about things.
They stopped at a small boutique tucked between a wine shop and a bookstore.
"This?" Merry asked. "You brought me to shop?"
Damon pushed the door open. "For five minutes."
Inside, the air smelled faintly of perfume and old wood.
A woman behind the counter smiled warmly, speaking rapid French.
Damon answered without hesitation.
Merry blinked and later whispered. "You speak French?"
He shrugged out of his coat. "Enough of it. Go pick out a book. You might find a favourite."
He moved through the shop with fingers brushing fabrics like he already knew what he wanted. He picked up a scarf while Merry surfed for books. It was deep blue with floral designs and soft. He went and held it up against Merry's neck without asking.
"Turn," he said.
She did.
He draped it around her shoulders carefully, adjusting it once. His hands lingered half a second too long.
The woman behind the counter smiled knowingly.
"It suits you," Damon said, voice lower than before as he leaned close.
Merry tilted her head. "You buy scarves for all your fake fiancées?"
"No," he said. "Just the difficult ones."
She laughed before she could stop herself.
He paid without checking the price.
Outside, Merry looped the scarf properly, grinning. "So this is what you do for fun?"
"This," Damon said, glancing down the street, "is strange."
She studied him as they drove again. "Where next?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then, quieter: "Somewhere fun."
And for the first time since she met him, Damon didn't look like he was running from something.
They didn't stop at just one shop.
Damon led her into a second one. A very large city mall. Everything behind glass. It was so busy. He took her upstairs through the elevator to the elite's section of the building.
"This is expensive."
"It's Paris, Merry Steele." he said. "Everything lies about being casual."
He spoke to the boutique section clerk in French again. Brief. Precise.
Then he pointed.
"Those first."
The clerk brought out a pair of earrings. Simple. Pure gold but not flashy. The kind that looked like they'd last.
Merry frowned. "Those aren't exactly my style."
"I know," Damon said. "You'll still wear them."
She looked at him questioningly.
A pause, then he spoke gently. "You're really beautiful. You'll wear them well."
Merry's heart lurched, and she swallowed fast, his words ringing in her ears.
He watched her put on the earrings and his deep blue eyes seemed to twinkle for a moment.
Merry watched as he paid with no hesitation.
Then, unexpectedly, he gestured toward another case.
"Do you prefer giving out silver or gold more?" he asked.
She blinked. "Why?"
"For your sister."
The words landed strangely.
"You remember I have a sister?"
He shrugged. "You talk about Nicki's deeds when you're angry. I have something for Mr George Steele too. He's your father."
Merry smiled at his words despite herself.
"Wow." she whispered lightly.
Damon thought for a moment. Then, he nodded toward a leather goods shelf near the back.
"A wallet. Not loud. Something he won't replace early. From me. Pick out stuff, too. Ten minutes only."
"Ten minutes only." Merry mimmicked and said. "Okay."
She smirked and picked stuff, careful not too pick things that might be too expensive but Damon was behind her, telling her how one or the other was better and if she liked it, she shouldn't hesitate.
All the while, Merry's heart kept swelling and beating hard.
The clerk wrapped everything carefully.
Outside, Merry stopped walking.
"Thanks, Damon but you didn't have to do that."
"I know. You're welcome." Damon said.
They got in the vehicle, and Damon soon parked at a lot.
They walked back into the crowd, shoulder to shoulder now, no space between them, lights reflecting off the river ahead.
A street musician suddenly laughed with people nearby when a note went wrong. Damon glanced over.
And something slipped.
A small sound escaped him. Briefly.
A laugh and a smirk.
Merry turned so fast she almost collided with him.
"Did you just laugh?"
"No," he said immediately.
She grinned. "You did."
"It was a reflex."
"A real giggle," she corrected. "Haha. That must have been relatable."
His jaw tightened, but due to embarrassment.
"Don't tell anyone," he said.
"Tell who?" she teased. "The press?"
He shot her an expressionless look. Then, quieter: "Fuck the press."
"Well," Merry laughed, looping her arm through his without asking, "Paris is really good for you."
He didn't pull away.
Damon stopped them at a simple restaurant.
She was surprised but did well not to show it as Damon kindly guided her through the menu and told her what it's like to eat them.
Noticing her near-uncertainty, he spoke.
"Hey, I'll get us some takeaway. You can eat before we walk so you don't get tired."
"I'll eat whatever you eat then."
Merry smiled reflexively when Damon did.
"Really, huh? I have a scary appetite." Damon teased.
He spoke to the smiling waitress who couldn't take her eyes off him.
"We'll get the pan bagnat and croque monsieur. One bottle...."
Merry intercepted.
"Pineapple juice, Damon. You're driving."
He nodded and spoke to the waitress.
"Pineapple juice. And soda for her."
Merry blinked and looked at Damon. Their eyes met briefly and Merry swallowed.
They ate with hands and Merry watched Damon savor every taste, intrigued by him each time.
When they finished eating, they took a cab to the lot and showed their takeaway in the rented car.
Merry was standing and waiting for Damon to lock the car when she was attacked by a pickpocket.
It was too sudden that she hardly noticed when Damon materialized, ripped her purse free and stunned the attacker, shoving him hard that he stumbled and fell.
The roadside police arrived fast and arrested the robber.
"Do you want us to go back?"
Merry was stunned but seeing the worried look in Damon's eyes instantly calmed her nerves.
"I'm fine," Merry said quietly. "I want to keep going."
****
****
The bridge was alive.
Music and laughter drifted from everywhere.
Damon watched her as she took pictures, watched the lights amd sight with delight on her face and something tightened in his chest.
This was what scared him.
Not the cameras or the crowd but the way she fitted into his quiet habits too easily. The way he had stopped composing himself around her.
"This place is insane," she said.
Damon stopped walking.
That alone made her turn.
"You chose it. Crowded. Are you comfortable?" She added.
He smiled even though it didn't touch his eyes.
Someone brushed past them. A couple posed nearby. Phones were already lifted everywhere.
"Damon?" she called.
He stepped closer.
His hand settled at her waist, firmly.
"We're engaged," he said calmly. "They're going to see it."
"You know they're watching now," she said lightly.
Damon looked at her lip.
"Let them see," he said.
She didn't have time to speak.
When he kissed her, it wasn't careful.
It was deliberate.
Gasps broke out nearby. Someone laughed. A whoop sounded. Then another.
People clapped.
Damon didn't pull away.
He deepened it. Slow and unapologetic and Merry feared he might have heard her moan in delight and sheer emotions.
When he finally leaned back, his thumb brushed her lip once.
"This," he said quietly, "is what they're going to get used to.
Camera shutters kept clicking.
By morning, the world would know.