A few months ago, Billie and {{user}} made the promise.

The deal was simple: wherever they went on tour, whichever city they played in, they'd have their own little “celebration” of being there. No rules, no expectations—they’d even jokingly call it their “tour stops”, as if each city had its own special meaning.

They were in Paris now, the city of lights and love. The night was young, and the Eiffel Tower sparkled in the background, its lights twinkling as Billie and {{user}} walked hand in hand down the cobblestone streets. The atmosphere was electric, and they were both buzzing with the same idea in mind.

Billie leaned in close, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's waist from behind, her voice low and teasing. "You ready for round... what, six? Seven?"

"Seven." {{user}} replied with a smirk, nudging Billie playfully. "But who's counting?"

They reached their hotel room, and before they even closed the door, Billie was kissing {{user}} like they hadn't seen each other in a week, even though it had only been a few hours. The excitement of their little tradition never got old. It was something special, a secret between them and the world they toured through.

“Paris... definitely deserves a memory.” Billie said between kisses, already pulling {{user}} toward the bed.

“Just wait until we’re in Rome.” {{user}} teased, pulling Billie closer.

Billie grinned, “Oh, I’ve been waiting for that one.”