The sunlight filtering through the hotel room's sheer curtains painted a warm glow across the room.
Silas stood near the window, buttoning his shirt, while the soft rustle of sheets behind him caught his attention.
On the large bed, a beautiful young woman stretched languidly, her silky blonde hair cascading over her bare shoulders.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she propped herself up on one elbow, her gaze fixed firmly on him.
The question in Silas's mind wasn't whether last night happened—it very much had—but rather, how they ended up here.
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It had all begun the previous evening. After leaving the art gallery, Silas had been wandering the streets of Paris, taking in the city's charm.
He hadn't intended to stop at the quaint café near the Seine, but the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries had drawn him in.
That's where he'd met her—Céline. She had been seated alone, her delicate fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of espresso, her posture elegant yet relaxed. Their eyes met briefly, and before Silas could think twice, she had gestured for him to join her.
The conversation had flowed effortlessly. Céline was witty, intelligent, and possessed a confidence that matched her beauty.
She spoke about art, philosophy, and her disdain for the mundane routines of life, her voice tinged with a melodic French accent that made every word sound enchanting.
One thing led to another. Drinks at a nearby bar. Laughter over shared stories. A spontaneous decision to return to Silas's hotel. And now, here they were.
---
The Present
The faint rustling behind him grew louder, followed by the sound of Céline padding across the floor.
Silas felt her warm presence before her arms wrapped around his waist, her soft skin and her moulds pressing against his back.
"You're truly what every woman dreams of in a man," she murmured, her voice a playful purr as her hands roamed over his chest. "This body of yours... it's a masterpiece. And it's not the only work of art you carry."
Silas felt her hand slide downward, her fingers brushing over his abdomen, tracing lower until—
"Céline," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and warning.
But she wasn't deterred. Her hand lingered as she used the tip of her soft,cold finger to tease the edges of the cap.
"This thing right here... a beast. Were you trying to break me in half last night? I begged you to stop, but it was like talking to a wall."
She leaned closer, her breath hot against his ear. "How many times did you even do it inside me? Hmm? Are you ready for another round?"
Silas turned, catching her wrist gently but firmly. "As tempting as that sounds, I have things I need to take care of."
Céline pouted, but her smile betrayed her playfulness. She stepped back, allowing Silas to make his way to the bathroom.
Silas couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head as he sat in the armchair by the window. "You're relentless, aren't you?"
"Always," Céline said with a wink, handing him a cup of coffee.
As they ate, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—her favorite places in Paris, his thoughts on the art gallery they had visited the previous night, and her work as a freelance designer.
"Honestly, I've been feeling stuck for a while now," Céline admitted, tearing a piece of croissant. "The gallery scene here is competitive, but it's also... stagnant. Everyone's chasing trends instead of creating something meaningful."
Silas nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "That's the problem with a lot of industries. People focus too much on what's profitable and forget about innovation."
She leaned forward, her chin resting on her hand. "See? This is why I'm serious about coming with you. You're different. You see the world in a way that's... refreshing."
Silas met her gaze, his expression softening. For a moment, he considered it. Céline was vibrant, intelligent, and undeniably attractive. But his life wasn't one he could share so easily.
"I appreciate the sentiment," he said after a moment. "But my world is complicated. Dangerous, even. You deserve more stability than I can offer."
Céline pouted, though her eyes sparkled with understanding. "Fine. But don't think I'll give up that easily."
After breakfast, Silas began packing his things, Céline watching him from the bed.
"So, what's next for you?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine curiosity.
"Work," he said simply. "Lots of it. And traveling. My schedule doesn't leave much room for anything else."
"And here I thought I'd made such an impression," she teased, though there was a hint of disappointment in her tone.
"You did," Silas said sincerely, turning to face her. "But I'm not in a place where I can give you what you deserve. It wouldn't be fair to either of us."
Céline nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. "You're an enigma, Silas. I don't know what you're running from, but I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for."
He smiled faintly, shouldering his bag. "Take care of yourself, Céline. And keep creating. The world needs more people like you."
As he walked to the door, she called after him, "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me!"
Silas paused, glancing over his shoulder. "Maybe I'll take you up on that someday."
As Silas's plane ascended into the clouds, he found himself replaying the morning's events.
Céline had been a whirlwind for him. A burst of color and light in the otherwise muted palette of his life.
He admired her spirit, her fearlessness, but he couldn't allow himself to be drawn in. His path was too uncertain, too dangerous.
And yet, a small part of him wondered what it might have been like to let her in, to share even a fraction of his world with someone so vibrant.
Shaking the thought from his mind, he turned his focus to the work ahead. There were too many variables, too many threats. He couldn't afford distractions, no matter how tempting they might be.
Still, as the plane cruised above the clouds, he allowed himself one last smile at the memory of Céline's boldness.
"Stallion, huh?" he muttered to himself, chuckling softly.