I hate this war and all the misery it brings. So many lives tortured. Why can’t things go back to they way they once were?’ Armand pulled her into...bed, drawing her close to him under the feather comforter. Cradling her face in his hands, he kissed her lips, lightly touching them. Safe in his arms, Nicole pushed all thoughts of war out of her head. ‘Nicole, if I could give you back the Paris you grew up in, I would. The war has changed everything but my love for you.’ Pulling him closer to her,. Never noticed the quiet purr of his voice until he asked me what book I was reading. He is an older man, with fine lines of grey speckled in his black hair, faint creases of wrinkles in his skin when he laughs, though he looks quick and agile for his age, which I guess to be at about fifty-five. Overall he isn't a man of astonishing beauty, and yet I have started to view every day at work as an opportunity to see him, share eye contact, make small talk. He stands up from the chair he has been. More

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