It was late evening in Paris, rain lightly
kissing the glass rooftops as the city
shimmered under streetlights. Fiona
stepped off the train, her coat drawn tightly
around her, lavender scarf fluttering in the
wind. She wasn't here to fall in love. She
came to run from the past-but fate had
other plans.
At the edge of the platform, a tall man stood
with his back turned, black trench coat
fluttering like a shadow. Tattoos snaked
down his hand, fingers clutching a cigarette
he never lit. The moment he turned, their
eyes met--dark and stormy, locked onto
hers like they'd been searching. Her breath
hitched. He looked at her like he'd seen her
before. Like he'd waited.
He dropped the cigarette. Stepped closer.
Didn't speak
And yet, Fiona heard it in her chest- You're
mine now