PARISIAN HEARTS

Chapter 15

The warmth of their kiss lingered in the air long after Adrien left that evening. Isabelle sat by the window in her apartment, her mind spinning with the events of the past few hours. She had never expected things to escalate so quickly between them, but now that it had, she felt a rush of emotions she hadn’t known were buried so deeply.

Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel the ghost of Adrien’s lips on hers—the softness, the passion, the need that had simmered just below the surface. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

The next day, Isabelle woke up to the sound of her phone vibrating on the nightstand. Her heart skipped a beat as she glanced at the screen, hoping it was Adrien. When she saw his name, a smile spread across her face, and she quickly answered.

“Good morning,” his deep voice greeted her, and the sound of it immediately made her feel lighter.

“Good morning,” she replied, still trying to shake off the last traces of sleep.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, his tone more playful than concerned.

“A little, but I don’t mind,” she said, her voice soft.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to hear your voice,” Adrien admitted, the sincerity in his words making Isabelle’s heart flutter.

They talked for a while, about nothing and everything—her upcoming painting project, his busy schedule, and little details of their lives they hadn’t yet shared. But beneath the light conversation, there was an undeniable shift. They were closer now, more connected, and neither of them was fighting it.

Later that afternoon, as Isabelle sat painting, her mind wandered back to Adrien. The intensity of their kiss still echoed in her thoughts, but so did the uncertainty. She knew there were parts of his life she still hadn’t fully understood. There was an air of mystery around him, and while she felt closer to him than ever, a small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that there were things he hadn’t yet shared.

Adrien, on the other hand, found himself thinking of Isabelle at every spare moment. No matter how hectic his day became, thoughts of her calm and creative presence would ground him. He was becoming addicted to the way she made him feel, as though she was the missing piece he hadn’t known he needed.

As evening fell, Adrien arrived at Isabelle’s apartment again, unannounced but welcome. She greeted him at the door with a smile that made him forget about everything else. Her tiny apartment felt like a safe haven, a place where he could escape the weight of his responsibilities and just be.

They spent the evening together, sharing stories about their pasts and laughing over things that felt both trivial and important at the same time. As the night wore on, Adrien found himself inching closer to Isabelle, his hand brushing against hers with casual affection. There was a magnetic pull between them, and neither seemed willing—or able—to resist it.

“I feel like I can be myself around you,” Adrien said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over them.

Isabelle looked up, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. “You don’t feel that way often?”

“Not really,” he admitted, his gaze holding hers. “In my world, everything is about appearances, about being perfect all the time. But with you... it’s different. You make me want to be real.”

Isabelle’s heart swelled at his words. She knew what he meant, understood the pressure of trying to live up to expectations. It was something she faced too, in her own way, but hearing him say it made her realize just how alike they were.

Before she could respond, Adrien leaned in, capturing her lips in another kiss—this one slower, more deliberate, filled with a depth of feeling that left her breathless. Their connection felt undeniable now, as if all the unspoken emotions between them were pouring out in that moment.

When they finally pulled away, both were lost in each other’s eyes, the air between them charged with the promise of something more.