Alright, guys, I have something for you! Design a room to go with this storyline and put the storyline in your room description. I already have a rough sketch, but I just wanted to see what you would make.
Here's the story (it is a little romantic, so keep that in mind while you design):
Ella Bradford sighed. It felt so good to relax and settle down, especially after she had just gotten married to Armand Claudiu, a man who traveled considerably less than she did and never traveled outside the country of France.
Nearby their cat, Jean, curled up on the bed. Ella smiled as she remembered.
A rebellious Brit who grew up in Coventry, she had left Britain as soon as she got out of college for a more adventurous life. The passion she pursued as a professional photographer meant that adventurous life included traveling to places ranging from Paris, France to Port-au-prince, Haiti, Timbuktu to Tokyo, Japan and Denver, Colorado to Delhi, India.
And Ella, of course, enjoyed every minute of it, even though Britain was her forever home.
But it was in Paris that she met Armand, a quiet French artist who had offered to paint her portrait for her. She had agreed, and she went back to her new London apartment with both a portrait and his phone number.
They corresponded regularly, and on her next trip to Paris he was the one to show her around. And naturally, of course, he was the first one to propose to her. His French charm was just the right match to her spicy British spirit, and she accepted.
Now they were on their honeymoon in the charming city of Annecy, France, the "Venice of the Alps." Armand had visited here many times as a child, and he wanted Ella to see it for herself.
Ella was impressed. But there were so many things she wanted to do and so little time... Maybe she could convince Armand to squeeze in a few more activities before they left.
But where was Armand? He had slipped out of their hotel room to see if he could get someone to tell them where a good restaurant was. Armand had promised her that once she tasted the very best of France she would never go back. She believed him, and last she heard, he was still looking.
But she had other things to do while she waited, like practice her French, for one. Armand had given her a poem he had written so it would be easier to learn. She smiled as she picked up the paper. There was his flowing handwriting, complete with all his flourishes that had become so familiar to her.
Tu me ravis, mon amour
Pour toi j'ai soif
Ma pensée éveillée est épuisée
Penser à votre grâce
Ton charme est captivant
Ta voix est un son de bienvenue
Vos mots sont agréables à beaucoup d'oreilles
Et tes yeux, une piscine de mystère
Qui est la réponse
Ne peut être trouvé
Et comme je continue mon chemin
Je dois penser à toi chaque jour
Je n'oublierai jamais de dire
Tu me ravis, mon amour.
She repeated every word carefully, almost hearing Armand's voice gently prodding her on as she struggled somewhat with pronunciation. He had tried his best to make it easy for her, she knew he had. But he was still more advanced in his French than she was, having spoke it all his life.
She looked up at the sound of the key turning in the lock. It was Armand! With a cry of relief she flung herself at him before stopping short. There was a bouquet of brilliant red roses in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. Behind him was a butler with several covered trays.
"I thought you were going to look for the restaurant," she said slowly.
"I was," he admitted. "But then I decided to bring the restaurant to you."
Ella blushed. "Armand, you shouldn't have."
He laughed. "Don't worry. This was my plan in the first place. I just didn't tell you." Then he rested the bouquet and the chocolates on the table.
"Come, my love. We have a lot planned for tonight, don't we?"
Ella smiled. "I think we do, Armand, I think we do."
Good luck! (And special thanks to Lifandus' Taj Gustav story for inspiring this!)
(Yes, I wrote the poem. I'll post the English translation below.)