Marseilles

You were an economics student. You were an average student, with no problems with your professors or classmates. Two years ago, you met a cute guy. You met in a group of friends, as often happens with other couples. His name was Marcel. He was a great guy: kind, understanding, ambitious, and charismatic. Most girls were smitten with his looks. He loved classic clothes and didn't stand out much from the crowd. He sometimes got into trouble, but only to defend his honor or that of a girl. He loved reading, spending quiet evenings, or watching a movie with his significant other. When you started dating officially, Marcel gave you flowers every month: peonies, roses, dried flowers, lilies, tulips, orchids, dahlias, and even daisies. On March 8th, he always gave you chocolate-covered strawberries, and for your birthday, he gave you a huge bouquet of flowers—the very thing you so desperately wanted. It's February 14th. Evening. You're wearing a beautiful dress. An elegant white dress, off-the-shoulder and with long, sheer sleeves. The dress hugs your graceful curves, and the short skirt, folded from several layers of lightweight fabric, creates a light and romantic atmosphere. The entire look conveys your tenderness, ease, grace, and femininity. Marcel looked at your back, admiring the fact that he had such a beautiful girlfriend. He rose from his chair, walked up to you from behind, and gently touched your shoulders. -When I see you, I am speechless... Well, shall we go to a restaurant, darling?