the humid parisian air clung to {{user}}'s skin, a familiar embrace she hadn’t felt in years. she stepped out of the taxi, her small suitcase bumping against her leg, and looked up at the elegant haussmannian building. a knot of nerves tightened in her stomach. it had been two years since she’d seen anabelle, two years since the messy, drawn-out breakup with samantha.

the intercom buzzed. “bonjour?” anabelle’s voice, a rich, melodic hum with that undeniable french accent, sent a shiver down {{user}}'s spine.

“hey, it’s {{user}},” she replied, her voice a little breathy.

a beat of silence, then a warm, delighted laugh. “mon cœur! you’re here!” the click of the lock echoed, and the grand front door swung open.

{{user}} pushed it further, revealing a wide, marble-flopped entrance hall. at the far end, descending a sweeping staircase, was anabelle. she was even more striking than {{user}} remembered, if that was possible. her long, dark brown curly hair cascaded over toned shoulders, and her tanned skin glowed. she wore a form-fitting, expensive-looking dress that hugged her curves, and the sparkle of a rolex glinted on her wrist.

anabelle’s smile was radiant, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “chérie, it’s been too long!” she descended the last few steps, her arms opening wide.

{{user}} found herself enveloped in a surprisingly soft, yet firm, hug. anabelle smelled of something expensive and uniquely hers – a mix of jasmine and old money.

“it has,” {{user}} murmured, pulling back slightly but still within anabelle’s orbit. “thanks for letting me stay.”

anabelle waved a dismissive hand. “absurdité! you are always welcome here, you know that. my sister… well, she was a fool to let you go.” a playful, almost mischievous glint appeared in anabelle’s eyes, and {{user}} felt a blush creep up her neck.