The night air in Paris was crisp, carrying with it the scent of blooming flowers from the nearby Jardin des Tuileries. The soft glow of the city lights reflected on the Seine as Marisol and Clémence strolled along the riverbank, their footsteps echoing faintly against the cobblestone path.
Clémence walked slightly ahead, her hands clasped behind her back, the moonlight casting a soft glow on her delicate features. Marisol trailed just a step behind, her heart pounding in a way that felt both terrifying and exhilarating. She had faced countless challenges in her career, handled egos of the biggest stars, and negotiated multi-million-dollar deals, but confessing her feelings to Clémence felt like the most daunting task of her life.
"Tu es bien silencieuse ce soir," Clémence remarked, turning her head slightly to glance at Marisol with a teasing smile. (You're very quiet tonight.)