𝘖𝘉𝘚𝘌𝘚𝘚𝘐𝘖𝘕// dark romance

01|| sweet and sanitary

    ᥫ᭡ ᥫ᭡ ᥫ᭡

Arielle

As I stepped off the stage, the applause still ringing in my ears, I felt a surge of exhilaration wash over me. I had done it—

I had sung my heart out in front of a live audience, and the thrill of it lit a fire within me.

But amid the laughter and cheer, I caught sight of him—Français. My boss, the one who flew me out and sponsored me to work in this bar.
He was seated at the bar, his dark, brooding presence a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of the room. My heart skipped a beat as I took in his striking features, the way the dim light cast shadows across his angular jawline. He exuded an air of confidence that was both intimidating and alluring.

His eyes were piercing—deep-set and cold, as if they held secrets I wasn't meant to uncover. They seemed to narrow slightly as he observed me, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. There was something magnetic about him, a pull that drew me in despite the chill that lingered in the air surrounding him.

As I made my way through the throng of patrons, my heart raced. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching me, his gaze unwavering and intense. I had never met anyone like him before—handsome, yes, but there was an edge to him that left me feeling unsettled.

"Hey, great job tonight!" Lucy called out, breaking me from my thoughts as she approached with a bright smile. "You really connected with the crowd!"

"Thanks, Lucy," I replied, trying to keep my composure. My eyes flickered back to Français, who hadn't moved, still leaning against the bar with an air of nonchalance.

Before I could overthink it, I felt a presence beside me. I turned to find Français standing there, his posture relaxed yet imposing. "You were... impressive," he said, his voice low and smooth, like dark velvet. There was a hint of something in his tone—an intrigue that sent my pulse racing. He sounded almost forced..repulsed?

"Thank you," I managed, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. "I'm still getting used to performing in front of an audience like this."

He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You'll find your rhythm. Just remember, this city can be harsh. Don't let it swallow you whole."

His words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I nodded, unsure of how to respond. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Do you need someone to walk you back to your apartment?" he offered, his voice steady and cool. "It's a big city, and not everyone here has good intentions."

I hesitated, my instincts telling me to be cautious. There was something undeniably alluring about him, but also something that sent a warning bell ringing in my mind. "I—" I started, but before I could finish, something in his eyes softened, an almost imperceptible shift that caught me off guard.

"Please, it's not a problem," he insisted, his tone almost gentle. "I wouldn't feel right letting you walk alone." His accent thick.

After a moment of deliberation, I nodded, deciding to trust my gut. "Okay, that would be nice. Thank you."

As we stepped out into the night, the cool air enveloped us, and I felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with apprehension. The streets of New York City were alive with energy—the sounds of laughter, music, and the occasional honking horn filled the air. But walking beside him, I felt a strange tension, as if the world had faded away and it was just the two of us amidst the chaos.

"What brings you to this city?" he asked, his voice cutting through the noise.

"I'm pursuing my dreams of singing," I replied, glancing up at him. "I want to make a name for myself, share my voice with the world."