AFTER HOURS || CL16

Charles had been seventeen the first time he fell in love with Anaïs Delacroix.

Back then, she had been his literature teacher - elegant, untouchable, always smelling faintly of perfume and cigarette smoke. He used to stay after class just to hear her talk a little longer, pretending he needed help while memorizing every detail about her instead.

The sound of her heels in the hallway.
The ink stains on her fingers.
Those impossible green eyes beneath dark lashes.

She had looked at him like he was a boy.

Years later, Monaco glittered beneath the night sky as Charles saw her again for the first time.

Black hair. Green eyes. Wine glass in her hand.

Anaïs.

And with a single look, every feeling he had spent years trying to bury came violently back to life.