[ 𝙇𝘼 𝙉𝙊𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙂𝙄𝙀 ] ᯼ ✔

𝐈.

[ A/n: translations are at the bottom part of the chapter, first happy reading! ]

Time Indicators:

* = "Meanwhile"
** = "Flashback/Memory"
*** = "Time-skip/Future"

FW: Same-Sex Relationships, Mature
Language & Mature Themes

→ This book has been chased as mature, in the reason for the rest of the edition contains sex, alcoholism, nicotine-consumption, mentions in usage of illegal substances, and other explicit themes not suitable for certain readers. ←

**Disclaimer: THIS STORY IS NOT MEANT TO OFFEND ANYONE IN ANY WAY. ALL CHARACTERS USED BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS. THIS STORY IS ONLY MEANT FOR PURE ENTERTAINMENT OF READERS AND FANFICTION.**

[ Nicky ]

We were inseparable back then. At the time where you called me yours and I called you mine. Back when you had your hands laced in my fingers and your feet rest on mine as we danced in our living room. But that's gone now, everything is in the past. The past left me with a bad feeling every time I hear your name.
I'm sure you can be happy with someone else.

Mais je suis sûr que je ne peux pas sans toi...

°°-A Bad Feeling-°°

"Gigi! Come on. We're going to be late.", Nicky groaned boisterously up above to the aviation of staircases that adjoined their marvelously large flat compartment. Her French inflection encroached through expressions in a disgraceful manner. She strutted on twosome of her sensual legs, her pair of pétite feet affixed and embodied in sky-high heels; tipping impetuously on the wooden surface of her residency. Lean upper-limbs bridged over one another; appearing remarkable yet unorthodox-like in her illustrious and unrestrained shift. Loitering by the posterior of the flight of strides for her ladylove. Precipitously.

"Hold up! Don't leave without me!!", the Scandinavian-allure blundered with the arduous mementos of her apparel. Overlooking the golden encrusted glass-reflector to concentrate on her sluggishly raveled lace, but nothing appeared to function momentarily in her courtesy.

"For fuck's sake. Can you come upstairs real quick?? Help me with this so we can go already!!", the French-blonde sough and ratified lucid notches onto the marble treads, involuntary to not careen and plunge down the relatively exacerbated slope. Her feet delicately clicked on the elevated stone path as it made sweet noises of wealth. Her consolidated red-bottomed Louboutins displayed palatinely on her clement nadirs. A few jiffies fore she surpassed the sumptuously adorned chamber door. Exhumed the faultless glamour that she called her lady; undergarments show her tight and sheer clothing of ivory.

"Can you help me with this?", the flushed-Scandinavian relented her complexion in superficial chagrin. Nicky tittered lightly at the splendor that prospered in the pretense of her composure. Damn, she looked gorgeous.. The further elevated French bit her bottom lip to coerce a nonsensical acknowledgment to derive from her talk.