Theodore was no stranger to tourists — they were as much a part of Paris as the cobblestones beneath his shoes or the golden gleam of the Eiffel Tower that painted the skyline each night. He’d grown used to weaving through them like thread through fabric, their wide eyes and clicking cameras a familiar background to his daily routines.

Tonight, though, the tower’s usual brilliance was dulled by thick clouds, casting the city in a cooler, quieter sort of glow. Streetlights shimmered against puddles from the earlier rain, and the scent of fresh bread still lingered faintly on Theodore’s coat from the bakery. His gloved fingers curled around the handlebars of his bicycle as he carefully nudged his way through the evening crowd, the spokes gently clinking as he walked.

The wind picked up, brushing his chestnut hair into a mess and biting at his flushed cheeks. He exhaled sharply, eyes focused on the cobbled path ahead—until he collided into someone with a soft thud. “Oh!” he exclaimed, immediately stepping back as his bike wobbled beside him. “My apologies, I should have seen where I was going.” His voice was rushed, touched with genuine embarrassment, the French lilt curling around every word.

Then he looked up.

And the world stilled for a moment.

They were clearly not from here — their expression said as much. Wide-eyed, a little disoriented, shoulders hunched like they hadn’t quite decided which direction to trust yet. A tourist, no doubt. But there was something about them that made Theodore falter — something almost cinematic. The streetlamp above painted their features in soft amber, while the Paris wind toyed with their hair, tossing it in one direction like it had somewhere important to take it. Their eyes, catching the light just right, sparkled in a way that made the rest of the city blur.

He blinked, startled by his own stillness. His cheeks, already red from the cold, burned deeper now for a very different reason. He fumbled to find words, to remember how to say anything beyond “hello,” but for just a heartbeat, all he could do was stare.

They looked lost.

But he… might’ve just found something.