“Imagine Neal telling you to meet him in Paris” as requested by Anonymous.
Upon hearing your favourite phone ringtone, you immediately dug in your pocket and extracted your precious smartphone, immadiately at the caller ID. Strangely enough, it was a masked call. Frowning, you slid the screen and answered in a rather clipped tone.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
“Hey (Y/N), damn I missed your voice.”
You gasped when you recognize the man the voice belonged to.
“Neal?” your question was all but a whisper as if you were afraid that speaking too loud would make him disappear. “Is that you?”
“Yes, sweetheart. It’s me.”
You bareky contained your tears of joy.
“Oh my god, Peter was right, you are alive!”
You heard a chuckle at the other end of the line.
“I knew he would. I was hoping he would pass the message to you.”
You nodded, happy, but realizing he couldn’t see you, you added:
“Yeah, he did.”
You could imagine his soft smile as he was talking to you, talling you how it had all happened, how he left you unwillingly, always hoping that you would take the hint that he was alive but had no other choice but to fake his death to finally be free. Free to be with you.
“(Y/N).” He said, his tone suddenly solemn. “Would you join me in Paris?”
You were at loss of word for a moment, and he called your name again, worried that the communication had cut.
“Yeah, I would love to, Neal! I can’t wait to see you!”
“How about meeting where we dreamt to go if I was ever free?”
You smiled and acquisced, thrilled to see that he did not forgot his promise to take you to the Louvre.
Gifs are not mine!