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A/N — From this point onwards:
Italic text in "quotations" represents French speech!
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Cerise felt heat rush to her face and quickly turned forward, focusing on her steps so she wouldn't trip over herself.
Inside the bathroom—where she did actually have reason to be—she finished up, washing her hands before taking a moment to adjust her hair in the mirror.
Then the door opened behind her.
She barely paid it any mind, offering a polite yet fleeting smile to the woman who entered. Their eyes met in the mirror's reflection as she walked behind Cerise to stand at the other sink.
The woman hardly blinked. Her gaze flicked over Cerise, scanning and assessing, before she was finally resting her bag on the counter to rummage around inside.
Weird.
The woman finally stopped rifling through her bag, pulling out a tube of lipstick, "Transfer-proof, my ass."
As she reapplied it with practiced precision, Cerise couldn't look away. She stole glances as she messed with her hair some more, pretending to see invisible problems.
Something itched at her brain, like she should recognize her, but the connection wasn't immediate.
Then—
She saw it.
The shape of her lips. The tilt of her chin.
This face was familiar.
Her stomach twisted. She blinked roughly as if that would change the reality in front of her.
Lord, I don't know if I can pass this test...
Their eyes met again in the mirror.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked, capping her lipstick and tossing it back into her bag.
Cerise opened her mouth and then shut it just as fast.
What the fuck do I do?
Her fingers curled into her palms.
"Excuse me?" Cerise uttered hesitantly, the French coming out very much like a beginner.
The woman sighed, now lathering her hands with soap, "Did you need something?"
"No," Cerise said steadily, "Sorry. I feel like I recognize you from somewhere."
"Well, I'm certain I've never met you before," the woman said, "I don't interact with many Americans."
I don't have time for this right now, he's waiting for me.
Saint...
Did she see him?
Cerise nodded slowly, "...I must be mistaken."
She tore her eyes from the woman and stared at her own reflection, catching a glimpse of unbridled anger in her gaze before she was staring into the sink and washing her hands too.
Don't say anything. Just wash your hands, and leave.
Cerise gathered her senses in the brief moment that it took for her to rinse of the suds, and then she was drying her hands.
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Please, with a Cherry on top? | 18+
Romance"Tell me you don't want that," his darkened eyes clashed with her dazed ones, "Say it, and we'll stop right now. Tell me, and I'll go." Silence hung in the air, the distant hum of passing cars and crickets fading into the night. "Cause I have every...
