˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ ━ ☐ The serenpidity is the ability to make an unexpected discovery by chance. The serendipitist is the person who knows how to take advantage of unforeseen circumstances and, above all, does not allow chance to dominate them.
France, 1963...
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♡
:; We are one of a kind, irreplaceable How did I get so blind and so cynical ? If there's love in this life, we're unstoppable No, we can't be defeated. - avicii 🎞️
Montclair Residence, 11:34 AM
Sitting at her vanity, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror as the first rays of the year gently illuminated her room.
Her fingers barely grazed the makeup brushes as she tried to prepare herself for the day ahead.
The red dress, a gift from her father, hung gracefully on her youthful frame, molding her curves with an almost cruel precision. A discreet neckline adorned the top of the dress, adding a touch of sensuality to the ensemble.
Yet, despite her undeniable beauty, Lily-Rose didn't feel comfortable in this outfit. After all, she was only sixteen, and this dress seemed far too adult for her, far too constraining.
Each stroke of makeup on her delicate face was accompanied by a silent sigh as she applied it with practiced yet mechanical skill.
Her long lashes were adorned with mascara, her cheeks lightly flushed with a subtle blush. And yet, despite her efforts to appear perfect, she couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort gripping her heart.
As she continued to apply with meticulous precision, she heard a soft knock at her door. Without waiting for a response, her father entered the room, his gaze scrutinizing every detail of her attire.
"Are you ready ?" She rose from her chair and turned to him, nervously adjusting her coat over her shoulders.
"Yes, I'm ready," she replied, trying to conceal her unease.
Her father gave her a scrutinizing look, as if searching for something in her eyes. Then, in a stern tone, he added, "Your fiancé is downstairs. He's waiting for you."
As she headed towards the door, ready to descend the stairs to join Guillaume in the living room, she felt her father's hand firmly grasp her arm. She froze in place, her eyes meeting his.
"Listen to me," he began in a harsh voice, pulling her slightly towards him. "You're going to go down there and behave impeccably in front of your fiancé. I want no scandals, no mistakes from you. You obey Guillaume and do as he says, understood ?"
She nodded, unable to utter a word under her father's stern gaze.
"Very well," he declared satisfactorily, finally releasing his grip on her arm.
"Now, go downstairs and make me proud. And make him... happy. Understood ?"
She swallowed hard, trying to mask her fear behind a facade of calm.
