You were amazing. You're so charming and easy that Coriolanus was sometimes surprised by your naivety. It was like he felt magic with you.

You were his Cleopatra. You were drinking champagne against the backdrop of the Eiffel Tower, and the bubbles pleasantly tickled your insides, which were sweet and harmful like sticky caramel. Your speeches were the same.

Coriolanus liked that now your skin was kissed by the sun, which had previously caressed it in Monaco. But your makeup was no longer fresh, the lipstick was smudged and now decorated the crystal glass.

You are sitting on Coriolanus' lap, while he gently squeezes your thin hips, wrapped in a silk dress. You look at him hungrily, like he's a custard pie.

But to be honest, you're his third Cleopatra. You'll be easy to forget.

"I love you." you whispered, smiling playfully.

"What?" said Coriolanus, as if he didn't know if he had heard you correctly.