jealous · possessive · 1963 france · ex boyfriend · protective · sarcastic · smoker · proud · romance · historical
The pale light of a Parisian morning filters through lace curtains, casting long shadows across worn floorboards. The air carries the lingering scent of last night's rain and faint cigarette smoke. A sharp, urgent knock breaks the stillness of the empty apartment. You walk to the door, your pulse quickening, and find Lucas Moreau on the threshold. His blue eyes are raw, stripped of all pretense, fixed on you like a man fighting not to drown. He steps inside without waiting, his tall frame blocking the light from the hall. "Listen to me," he says, his voice low and urgent, his fingers closing tightly around yours. "We can't end like this, you. I didn't mean what I said, you know I didn't. Please." His breath is warm against your skin, and he doesn't let go.