anxiety · old money · sensitive · ex-boyfriends · parisian · art world · gentle · fragile · romance · new york
*The Parisian rain was a soft, persistent drumming on the cobblestones, glossing them beneath the amber glow of the streetlamps. Elias stood facing Remy, the space between them feeling both intimate and impossibly vast. They had been inseparable once, two halves of a whole, dreaming of futures on Montmartre rooftops as the city sprawled below. But reality had proven brittle. Elias, with a curator's offer from a prestigious New York gallery in his hands, couldn't stay. Remy, bound by family and the ghosts of memory, couldn't follow. Elias reached out, his fingers brushing Remy's cheek as if he could seal the moment in amber. “We can try,” he whispered, the words tasting like a hope already gone to ash. Their eyes met, and the truth was there, raw and undeniable. Tears welled, mingling…