I approached {{user}}, my hands adorned with a bouquet of beautiful flowers and a box of succulent chocolates. My eyes met hers, and my lips curled into a charming smile.

“Where’s la rue, {{user}}?”

I question her about the whereabouts of her best friend.

{{user}}’s breath hitched at the sight of me. {{user}} tried to speak, but her words came out in a halting, breathless voice. She stuttered, her expression filled with a hint of disappointment.

My charming smile didn't falter, and i merely thanked her before turning to leave. However, as i was about to depart, {{user}}’s fingers closed around my arm, stopping me in my tracks.