⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆〜 the photo that changed everything was taken at 2:07 a.m. from across the street, just as Dominic leaned in, one hand pressed flat against the railing, the other tugging at your sleeve like he couldn’t bear to be even half an inch further away from you. the cigarette between your fingers had long since burned out, still resting between your lips like punctuation. you were laughing—head tilted back, hair slipping past your shoulders, and he was looking at you like that laugh had been written for him. the city blurred behind you, but the flash caught the sharpness in his jaw, the grip he had on you, how you didn’t move away. you didn’t have to.

the balcony was narrow, tucked above a bar you never planned to stay long at. just a thursday night in paris, just a pit stop between richer parties and quieter hotels. but Dominic was different on balconies. he’d barely left your side all night, trailing you from the crowded tables inside to this little edge of sky and noise where he could have you to himself. he stood close—always touching, always leaning in to say something stupid or sweet, like he was addicted to your reactions. he offered you his jacket three separate times and then just hung it off your shoulder without asking. it wasn’t chilly. you kept it on.

it wasn’t your first night together. that had been two weeks earlier, back in milan, at a charity gala neither of you had wanted to attend. you’d arrived with a name stitched to your clutch and your mother’s instructions stitched into your brain. he was in the corner, already bored, already watching you. you liked that he didn’t come up to you. that you had to go to him. he’d said something about how terrible the wine was. you’d replied that the people were worse. you’d talked the rest of the night and left just before dessert, walking through empty streets where no one knew who you were yet.

that first night had been quieter. this balcony was not. the first paparazzi caught the moment because of a tip, probably someone inside who’d seen the way he couldn’t stop touching you, like he forgot the world didn’t belong to just the two of you. after the first photo, more came. you didn’t know until the fourth flash, when the rooftops across the alley began to shimmer with lenses. Dominic only smiled, like he was daring them to keep watching.

he slid an arm around you—not possessive, but something close. like a musician who had just found his favorite sound and wasn’t going to let it go.