𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖋𝖆𝖍

"You took my cherry," I suddenly remembered, my chest still heaving from the aftermath. She stopped putting on her bra and looked back at me, a cheeky smile on her lips. I shook my head, "You stole my cherry," I corrected myself.

"That's funny."

I rolled my eyes at the childish innuendo and she giggled at my reaction before walking over to me and sinking to the floor to straddle me, a similar position to the one we'd been in a few minutes ago. "I didn't even notice you take it," I laughed, running my hands down her waist as I adjusted her on my lap. "Do you like it? I can get you one."

"I like you," she replied softly, leaning forward to capture my lips in a short kiss. "I thought you'd realize it was gone and look for me," she admitted, rubbing our noses together before pushing away from me. "I guess not."

I reached out to stop her from moving away from me, but she moved her hand out of reach, making me groan and get up too. "Anastasia," I whined, following her to her gym bag, "If it makes you feel better you'd have been the last person I'd suspect for taking it."

She raised an eyebrow at me before slipping on her white shirt, "Not shocked that I'm low on the long list of girls, you're probably fucking."

I gasped, pulling her into me from behind and burying my face in her neck, "Did you just call me a whore?" I asked, rocking us both from side to side, "Says the girl who's been sleeping with me for over a month now and doesn't even have my number."

A dark red blush bloomed on her face and she quickly pushed me away from her, "You've never asked for it," she argued before scoffing. "You don't take me seriously Versailles."

"When you met me you decided to insult me as a way to get into my pants," I put my hands on my hips, "If anyone should be upset, it's me." Instead of looking at me, I caught her staring at my body through the studio mirror, making me cover my tits with my hands, "Pervert!"

She turned around and leaned against the mirror, taking me in completely, "I won't lie I am losing focus," Her lip slid into her teeth and she beckoned me closer which I complied with, "Remind me why I'm angry with you?"

"Something, something, I'm too pretty to be mad at, something, something," I teased, watching lust take over her gaze again, which made me wonder if we had time for another round. "But you know what you did say something else."

"Really?" Her thin pink lips spread in a small smile, "What else did I say?" She didn't even look like she was paying attention to anything I was saying, instead her eyes were focused solely on my lips without any shame.

"You said you were going to take me out on a date tonight," I hummed, our faces inching closer together.

"Did I? Where was I going to take you?"

I thought for a second, "The bistro a block from here, the one with the really good hot chocolate."

Blue met brown as our eyes met again, I could see her entire demeanour soften and the last reservations about our relationship melt away. "I don't like hot chocolate," She pointed out.

I raised an eyebrow, "But you like me."

Our moment was cut short by a loud siren bursting through the building, it was a sound I'd never heard before but it didn't take an idiot to know what it was. "Fire?" She frowned, pulling me closer. I opened my mouth to confirm her question when the sprinklers on the ceiling burst and water began to drench the both of us.

"My hair!" She screeched, moving past me to rush to grab her bag. I dashed across the room to grab my shirt and shoes before following behind her as we both rushed out of the private studio. I didn't think it was possible, but the water in the hallways only seemed to be heavier, and I even had to grab Stasi to stop her from slipping and falling as we rushed to get out of the building.

When she saw me changing directions from the exit, she panicked and grabbed me. "Where are you going?" She asked me, her eyes wide with worry.

"My bags are still in the changing rooms," I tried to pull away from her, but she seemed reluctant to let me go. "I'll meet you outside, wait up for me."

She shook her head, her nails digging into my arm, "But," her head darted to glance down the hallway nervously, "What if there's a fire?"

"It's probably all put out because of the water don't worry," I assured her, giving her a reassuring smile when she finally let me go, "Get out of here, I'll be fine okay?"

She stood me up.

I stared at the empty seat across from me, drumming my fingertips on the table I felt like flipping. Maybe I should've taken the hint when I'd come outside and she was gone, but a part of me wanted to believe that something came up and she had to leave in a rush.

I now knew the truth.

"Rough night?"

I winced slightly, looking up to face one of the waiters in the restaurant. I'd been seeing them all throwing me pitiful glances, and I didn't blame them, considering I'd come with a rather large bouquet of roses that I eventually hid underneath the table as the night progressed. Fuck, this was so embarrassing.

"You have no idea," I sighed, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away. "If I tell you this doesn't happen to me often, would you believe me?" I asked him, trying to save face.

"You're a pretty girl, I don't doubt that," I rolled my eyes at the attempt to cheer me up. "Whoever it was, they don't deserve you."

"You're probably right," I agreed, chewing on my bottom lip. "You guys have anything that won't take too long to make? I don't want to cause you any trouble so close to closing time, but I'd rather not go home hungry."

"No no, of course I understand," He glanced behind him, probably checking the stuff on display, "We have a Quiche Lorraine special going on tonight, I can heat you up a couple of slices."

I found myself smiling, "You know my mother really loved that pie," Realising that was not an answer, I quickly followed up with a, "I'm sorry you probably don't care," I facepalmed. "Yes, I'll take the quiche just two slices will do. Thank you."

He didn't show even the slightest bit of judgment on his face, "I'll get that over right away, I'm Terrance if anyone asks you," He smiled before leaving me alone.

As promised, he came over with the steaming food shortly and even gave me a tall glass of lemonade. I found myself just emptily staring at the food before I went to pick up my fork and eat it. It tasted like my childhood and the warmth it brought me as it sat in my stomach reminded me of the sun in France and the way it radiated off of my parent's hands in mine.

Back when we were together. When they were alive.

I wondered if Terrance knew he was the first person I'd ever brought up my mother to. Bringing up my parents to people always felt like I was walking into a trap. A year after their deaths, when I finally opened up to my therapist at the time about them, she smiled at me and listened the whole time until I was finished, then the most patronizing look ever made formed on her face and she sighed.

She wanted me to talk about how it felt to love them so much and only to discover they were criminals. The police wanted me to know that I didn't have to follow in their footsteps and that although they were bad people, I could do something with my life and be better. I was shown their mugshots from several countries over and over again as if they wanted to burn in my head that the people I knew were not who I thought they were.

But no one knew them.

The news reporters pretended to, and the lawyers believed they did and even their friend was quick to hand over all their belongings and money because she wanted nothing to do with their dirty lifestyle.

And the worst part was, I didn't know them either.

Their faces in my memory were bittersweet and scrambled with the news reports I was told about them. Their stories were mixed in my mind with the crimes they committed and the people whose lives they ruined. All I had were the flashes of the times we spent together back when I was not who I was today and they were not who I found out they were.

When we were a family.

It was naïve of me, though, to ever think we were even close to being a normal family. But now that I was older it was clearer to me that the nights we spent dancing in the Palace of Versailles, the different passports we would use, and the way they would cover their faces whenever we were out in public were not normal and none of the time I spent with them was normal even though they tried so hard to pretend we were.

And now they were dead. 

All because they couldn't give it up, even for me.

I stood up abruptly from the table and snatched the bouquet before heading to the counter where a woman was there reading a newspaper. I reached into my pocket and pulled out some money before putting it down. "Thank you for the food," I peeked behind her, trying to see if I could catch sight of the sweet older man who'd served me, "Is Terrance anywhere near?"

She took the cash from me and began printing out the receipt, "Terrance?"

"Yeah, the man who served me," I frowned, wondering if I'd heard his name wrong, "He said his name was Terrance, I just wanted to thank him."

She shook her head, "Sweetheart there's no Terrance who works here," She gestured to where I was sitting, "You ordered that pie from me when you came in and have been staring at it for hours," She frowned, "I'm surprised you could even eat it, it's not usually very nice when it's cold."

I clutched the flowers tightly, a feeling of dread I hadn't felt in a long time washing over me. "I must've just gotten confused then, sorry."