Silence reigned in the apartment. A soft, muffled silence, as if time itself had paused.
Grégory was lying on the couch, a book open on his chest, but his eyes weren't on the printed lines. They were elsewhere. More precisely… on her.
Angie.
He kept thinking about her laugh at the café, the natural grace of her movements, the way she made every moment lighter without even trying. He never would have imagined that her calm presence could soothe him this much. Around her, he didn't need to pretend.
And Jessica wasn't there.
She had left two days earlier to visit her sister in Marseille, and had announced she'd be staying the whole week. "A little time with my sister," she'd said. A moment to "recharge."
Grégory, on his end, was on vacation. He could've used the time to do some DIY, catch up on reading, or get back to playing the guitar… But his mind kept drifting back to Angie.
The day after their chance encounter at the supermarket, she had messaged him:
> Angie: Do you still have your magical cereal at home, or shall we improvise breakfast?
He had laughed at the screen. And of course, he said yes.
---
Little Things Shared
Since then, they'd been spending time together. Nothing planned, nothing ambiguous. Just two friends on vacation, a little alone, enjoying a few hours together.
They had gone for breakfast at a little bakery. Pastries, coffee, laughter. Then they strolled through a park, chatting about everything and nothing. Later, the idea came up naturally.
— "What if we go to the beach tomorrow? It's going to be hot," Angie suggested, her eyes sparkling.
— "Sounds good. I'll make some sandwiches," Grégory replied without hesitation.
They spent half a day walking barefoot on the sand, playfully splashing each other in the cool water, talking about childhood dreams, imagined travels, and teenage memories.
Their bond grew stronger, almost in spite of themselves.
And yet… every glance lingered a bit longer than the last. Every gesture was more careful. Because they both knew—this connection, this bubble between them, was fragile.
---
The Message
One evening, after sharing a snack on Grégory's balcony, Angie took out her phone. She hesitated for a few seconds, then wrote to Jessica:
> Angie: Hey you! Hope you're soaking up the sun in Marseille! When are you coming back? I kinda miss you 😌
She knew what she was doing. She wanted to check in… but also avoid suspicion. She couldn't let the silence grow too suspicious.
Jessica replied ten minutes later:
> Jessica: My love! Everything's great here, we're enjoying ourselves. I'll probably be back Sunday night or Monday morning at the latest. Is Grégory surviving? 😂
Angie smiled and quickly typed:
> Angie: He told me he was a bit bored, so I'm keeping him company when I can. Promise, I'm looking after him! 😇
> Jessica: Haha thanks! I knew I could count on you. Big kisses 💋
Angie locked her phone, let out a sigh. She felt both relieved… and uneasy.
---
A Pause for Two
That evening, Grégory invited her over for a simple dinner. Pasta, white wine, a relaxed mood.
They ate on the balcony, city lights blinking in the distance. The air was warm. Their knees brushed occasionally under the small table. They pretended not to notice.
— "I wish this week would last longer," he murmured, without looking at her.
Angie, on the other hand, was watching the light catch the rims of the glasses.
— "Me too… But it'll still come to an end."
He nodded slowly.
— "I know."
A silence settled in—not heavy, just full of unspoken things.
They talked a bit more. About music, movies, summer memories. Still without crossing the line. But always skimming it.
Then came a deeper silence. This one needed no words. It was filled with everything they weren't saying.
Grégory slowly set down his glass. He turned to her. Angie's eyes sparkled in the dim balcony light. They weren't laughing anymore. They were searching.
— "You feel it too, don't you?" he murmured.
She didn't answer. Her breath had shortened. Her chest was rising a little faster. She could have stepped back. Said no. Ended it.
But she didn't.
So he leaned in, very slowly, giving her a chance to back away. His gaze dropped to her lips. He hesitated. But she didn't move.
She was the one who closed her eyes first.
And their lips met.
The kiss was gentle at first. Timid. Like a shiver. A whispered discovery. Then it deepened. Lengthened. Their breaths mingled, their hands brushed.
There was tenderness, heat, forbidden desire. A dizzying pull.
They kissed for a long time. As if nothing else existed. As if they'd been holding back for too long.
When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested together, eyes still closed. They said nothing. There was nothing to say.
What they had just shared spoke for itself.
Angie's heart was pounding. So was Grégory's.
The outside world had vanished. For that moment… there was only them.
And a quiet, undeniable truth:
nothing would ever be the same again.