There is still blood in my veins, music in my ears and macaroons on my plate. Im still here, I've just been looking for the right words. I didn't find them, but I found snow in the middle of a sunny paris. The kind that makes everything silent and calm, and beautiful. Powder.
Chloé is back to her old singin and baking self, but Im not buying it anymore. Im taking her up to the roof tonight, we need a picnic with the stars. This city is for strangers like the sky is for the stars.