Soulful (TayNew)

part-20

Author pov
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Every day was a new chapter in the book of their love story. From sipping wine in Montmartre to getting lost in the maze of art at the Louvre, Tay and New let themselves fall deeper into the magic of Paris and each other. Their love was effortless, glowing in every touch, every shared glance. For them, the city was a canvas, and their love painted it with colors so vivid that nothing else seemed to exist.

At the amusement park, Tay laughed as New insisted on riding every attraction. New's eyes gleamed with childlike wonder, his hands gripping Tay’s tightly as they spun around on the Ferris wheel, with the city sprawling beneath them. As the wheel slowed, New turned to Tay, his smile softening.

"I never want this to end."

"It won't," Tay replied, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Not as long as we have each other."

And they believed it. In the intoxicating haze of love, it was easy to believe that nothing could ever break them apart. Tay was obsessed with New, worshipping the ground he walked on. And New? He loved Tay more than he loved himself. It was perfect.

**But perfection is often fragile.**

As they strolled back to their hotel late that night, under the glittering lights of Paris, Tay wrapped his arm around New’s waist, drawing him close. They were lost in their own world. Neither noticed the figure watching them from across the street, blending in with the late-night crowd.

The person’s gaze was intense, unblinking. Hidden beneath a hood, their lips curled into a strange smile. It was unclear whether it was admiration or something far more sinister.

Days passed, and Tay's secret date plans only grew more elaborate. He was determined to make every moment with New unforgettable. But now, there were moments when the air felt heavy, like a subtle shift had happened, something unnoticed. **New felt it first.**

They were walking through a garden one afternoon, talking about their future, when New stopped abruptly. Tay noticed the sudden tension in his husband's body.

"What's wrong?" Tay asked, concerned.

New hesitated, glancing around. "I... I thought I saw someone following us. It’s probably nothing."

Tay brushed it off with a laugh. "We're in Paris, love. The city is full of people. No one's following us."

New smiled, but the uneasy feeling lingered. It felt irrational—after all, who would follow them? Yet, every now and then, he would feel the prickling sensation of eyes on the back of his neck. Whenever he turned around, there was no one there.

Meanwhile, Tay was too wrapped up in his own plans. He had arranged for a special evening—the one he was most excited for. A nighttime cruise on the Seine, under the stars, followed by a private performance where he’d sing for New in front of a small gathering of strangers. It was bold, romantic, and perfectly Tay.

The night of the cruise, everything went according to plan. The boat glided smoothly on the water, the Eiffel Tower lighting up the sky in the distance. New, leaning against Tay’s chest, felt a warmth spread through him, forgetting the strange unease of the past few days.

But somewhere, in the crowd, that same figure stood silently on the riverbank, watching the boat float away.

The night was perfect. As Tay took the microphone and began to sing, New’s heart swelled with love. His husband’s voice, full of emotion, echoed over the gentle ripple of the water. The audience was mesmerized, but no one was more captivated than New. He felt tears prick his eyes, his love for Tay growing more intense with every note.