"Paris? Well..." Elizabeth smiled softly to herself as she thought about all the times she opened tears to view the magical city. It was hard to put into words just what Paris meant to her; it brought such a complex wanderlust inside of her that made her excited, with no nervousness at all like she might have if she went down to the United States where Booker was from.

"I love the language, the poetry, the architecture, the culture, even their food looks spectacular. Their culture is so insular and protected from other cultures, they take pride in what they are and yet redefine what they are with avant-garde fashion and art. They set trends but they do it for their own enrichment, not for the approval of anyone else. I like the whole idea of that."

Elizabeth smiled up at Booker, wondering if he would approve of her reasoning and she oddly found that she hoped that he would. Although if he didn't, she promised herself she wouldn't be disappointed either.