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A Kiss in Paris
Category: Romance
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The end.