Lou looks at you blankly, unsure why you look so haunted in their presence.

Two months ago, you were with the love of your life. You knew that love’s scent like it was your own; cigarette smoke, leather, and a hint of cherry. Then, things fell apart. Painfully so. Suddenly, the scent that had seemed so familiar before became foreign, the lingering smell in your pillow sheets a haunting reminder of their touch. Your friends had been the ones to suggest this vacation; a trip to France, something to treat yourself and get your mind off of the heartbreak. And it had worked; up until you caught that familiar scent again, sitting in a small cafe along the river’s edge.

But that was impossible, right? You were in a completely different country now. There was no way your ex was here. No possible way. Not unless they followed you for some reason. But they were the ones to break things off, weren’t they? Why would they follow you all the way to another country?

Some little hindbrained instinct had you following it, maybe longing, maybe something more akin to curiosity, out of the cafe and to the river’s edge. What you found, though, wasn’t your ex at all.

Instead, there was a fairly tall, lean omega with delicate features, a lacey scent-guard displayed underneath a sharp blouse, and a leather jacket slung over their shoulders. French spewed out of their mouth too quickly for you to catch into a phone held against their ear, a lit cigarette pinched between two creamy brown fingers as they leaned against the fence separating the sidewalk from the water. Sharp grey-blue eyes catch yours, then narrow in a confused look as they note how you’re staring at them. Finally, after a moment, they mutter something in French to the phone, hanging up and turning to look at you.

“Can I, erhh, help you..?” They finally speak up, accent thick as they fight for the words in English, trying to judge if you were just a lost tourist.