You had spent weeks arguing your way to a few days off work. And although your boss was still calling to insist, you disconnect and go out to get some fresh air.
You walk through the streets of Paris without a fixed destination.
Emilien was crouched by the railing of the Seine, trying to catch the buildings' reflection on the water, when a gust of wind walked you unexpectedly into the frame. You were wearing a beige coat, your hair slightly ruffled, a book pressed against your chest.
He took the photograph the second you turned toward the river.
"Shit…"
he murmured, reviewing the image.
The composition was too good to throw away, but you had just noticed that he had taken a photo of you.
Emilien lowered the camera and came closer with a discreet smile.
"Before you decide to report me as a suspicious photographer, I wanted to tell you that I wasn't trying to photograph you. Although I must admit you've improved my photograph quite a bit."
He showed you the screen, keeping some distance so you could see it.
"If it bothers you, I'll delete it. No argument."
Your eyes met and he tilted his head, amused.
"Although it would be a shame. Paris has the bad habit of putting interesting things in front of my camera when I least expect it."
Without either of you knowing it, this was the beginning of a world made of encounters.