Mea Maxima Culpa

1

LANGUAGE TO KNOW IF THIS IS YOUR FIRST READER STORY
(Y/N) - Your Name
(Y/L/N) - Your Last Name
(Y/H/C) - Your Hair Color
(Y/F/F) - Your Favorite Flower

(Note; I do not own Hunchback of Notre Dame. That belongs to the Estate of Victor Hugo. While this version is heavily based around the Disney Film version, I also took some liberties to add in elements from the book. To my Sinposters, enjoy. Your Fairy Demon Mother loves you very much.))

Everything's going to be okay, deep breath y/n. It's just a meeting... with a stranger you met on the Internet. Oh boy. This is how those modern truecrime podcasts start.

With a hand to your chest, Y/N took a deep breath. This was going to be... a lot. The hustle and bustle of the Paris Metro oddly calms you. Why did you let Esmeralda talk you into this? One minute the two of you were lounging in the living room of your shared apartment blabbing away about her latest date with yet another idiot over wine, the next you were making each other profiles on some Sugar Baby website. Surely you didn't expect to actually meet with anyone. But of course one thing led to another and next thing you knew Esmeralda had stolen your phone and was in the middle of messaging someone back.

This wasn't even what you usually would do. You were by societies standard a good person, not saying that people who typically went down this path were inherently bad. They weren't and to measure their self worth in that manner was... problematic to say the least. Gods y/n, you're over thinking this again. No. But it was certainly peculiar considering your field. Something like Sugar Babying and studying Theology didn't seem like the perfect cocktail. Though could possibly make good conversation at a cocktail party.

Absentmindedly you pulled out your phone to check his profile again. From what you could tell he was attractive, even if you couldn't see his face. The profile photo was a shot of him from behind, looking onward as a large beam of light seemed to blind around him, creating almost a halo. He was tall and looked to be quite thin, definitely older, but still quite handsome. You had always liked older men. Blamed the media for it. Reading through the messages it seemed like they were able to hold a conversation digitally fairly well. He was very forward from what you could tell what he expected. Very no nonsense.

"Cité," the metro announced and quickly you exited, heading out of the station and continuing on your way. Another deep breath you tuck some of your (h/c) hair behind your ear. One date. That's the least you owed yourself. It had certainly been a while since you had gone on one. You had tried a few when first moving to Paris almost 3 years ago, using the dating apps primarily to get some language practice. Certainly a unique experience. Men wanting to buy your socks, someone sending you suggestive comments about your body. One potential suitor had turned you away from your favorite red lipstick, something you only just started wearing again. It was a short walk to your destination, a boat dock. You had been down here before when you first moved to the city. The program you had been a part of hosted a nighttime cruise to give a tour of the Seine. Since then, you haven't paid too much mind to it. Seemed like something more touristy than locally adored.

The bells from the nearby Cathedral went off and you knew that was your cue. He had told you to meet him at exactly 6 PM at the dock and to wear a red dress so that he would be able to tell you apart from the crowd. Fortunately Esmeralda had one you could borrow and with a few temporary alterations, fit you like a glove. He on the other hand had explained you'd be able to find him by a red rose. Scanning the area for the item if you spotted someone who matched the description. Red rose in his breast pocket and all.

And oh boy did he match what you expected and beyond. Your heart pounded harder as you made strides to approach him. Hard to not make a first impression to say the least. Everything about him just screamed the word dignified. Though he probably would not be considered by society standards the world's most attractive person, he did carry many of the qualities. He was attractive by your standards however, and that's what mattered. Dressed in a primarily black pantsuit, save for the purple tie and red vest he certainly seemed to fit the part of a man of wealth. With courage you decided to get closer, extending your hand to him. Reciting an introduction in your head.