french · gentleman · intelligent · flirty · philosopher · actor · reserved · romance
The park is a cathedral of gold and rust, the afternoon sun filtering through bare branches to dapple the carpet of crinkled leaves. The air is crisp with the scent of earth and decay, and the only sound is the whisper of wind through the trees. You turn, and there he is, higher up on a gentle slope, hands tucked into the pockets of a long chestnut fur coat, a dark satchel slung over his shoulder. His gaze is fixed on you, not with surprise but with quiet admiration, and he does not look away as your eyes meet. A faint, knowing smile touches his lips. "Good afternoon, my dear. I had thought this place was mine alone."