The kiss broke, but the air didn't move.
Not even a centimeter.
Lila was still breathing against his mouth, her fingers still gripping his tie like she hadn't remembered to let go. Matthieu hadn't stepped back either—he looked frozen, like his mind had crashed and was trying to reboot.
His eyes flicked to her lips once more.
Just once.
A mistake.
Because she saw it and they both wanted more.
Her throat bobbed, voice hoarse and sultry as she muttered. "Matthieu…"
He inhaled sharply, like her voice alone was dangerous. "Lila, we—"
He stopped, jaw tightening. "We should slow down."
The words were controlled.
The voice was not.
It was low and rough and painfully honest, betraying how he felt.
Lila scoffed, trying to sound normal. "Relax. It was just a kiss."
But her voice had a tremor that betrayed her.
He noticed—of course he noticed— and that only made him look more undone.
"You're shaking." he murmured, amused.
She stepped back immediately. "No, I'm not."
"My touch left you shaking and wanting." He pressed, voice husky
Lila stuttered, eyes darting around nervously " D-don't flatter yourself. I was just cold."
He didn't argue, didn't move closer—he didn't need to, her reaction already told him all he needed to know, but his gaze softened like he wanted to.
That made it worse for her. Lila hated soft. Soft made her chest hurt.
"I'll—" her words wobbled, so she cleared her throat. "I'll see you tomorrow."
He nodded once, but he didn't turn around. He stood there like there was something he wanted to say, something he was swallowing so deep it burned.
"Goodnight, Lila." he said quietly.
She couldn't bring herself to answer.
She just slipped inside her room and closed the door before anything else could happen.
---
The door clicked behind her as she escaped to the safety confines of her room.
She leaned against it like her bones gave out.
Her heart was still racing.
Not from fear but something worse.
She touched her lips once. Bad idea.
Her pulse spiked like she had been electrified.
"Idiot." she muttered to herself.
She paced around the room, trying to shake it off—the heat, the vulnerability, the way his voice had cracked on her name.
Why did it feel like more?
Why did it feel like too much?
Why did she want it?
Why did she crave his touch?
She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling everything she didn't want to feel.
Sleep did not seem as appetizing as it did before.
---
Matthieu
He stood where she left him, hands braced on his hips, breath still uneven.
"Stupid." he whispered into the empty hall.
He loosened his tie like he couldn't breathe right, but it didn't help. His mind wouldn't stop replaying the kiss — the way she pulled him closer—with the said tie—the tiny sound she made, the way she melted into him for half a second before pulling back.
He pressed a palm to his eyes.
"This shouldn't happen again." he told himself.
A lie.
A soft, pathetic lie.
He walked away before he did something else he'd regret.
Next morning
Lila woke up with the kind of headache that only came from stress, not alcohol. Her body felt like she'd been hit by life, not fists, and her mouth still tingled faintly where Matthieu had kissed her
Morning sunlight spilled weakly through the curtains, far too soft for the kind of night she had survived.
She pulled on a hoodie, tied her hair up, and headed downstairs—bracing herself for absolutely nothing.
Which is why it annoyed her that her stomach tightened the second she saw him.
Matthieu was already in the living room, sleeves rolled, hair still damp from a shower he definitely took to cool off more than to get clean. He didn't look up until she stepped fully into the room.
"Bonjour," he said—gentle, careful.
She blinked. "You're early."
He cleared his throat. "Couldn't sleep."
She almost snorted.
Yeah… same.
But she just hummed, brushing past him toward the kitchen. Except she didn't get far because the air between them was thick—warm, tense, full of unsaid things pressing right against her spine.
He followed a step behind, not close enough to touch her, but close enough that she could feel him. Like his presence had weight now.
"About last night—" he started.
"Nope."
Her reply was fast. Too sharp.
Matthieu froze. She didn't turn around, just grabbed a glass of water like she wasn't dying inside.
"We don't need to talk about anything," she said, staring into the glass. "It was late. We were tired, it was a momentary lapse of judgement."
"And that's your official statement?" he asked quietly.
"Do you need a signed copy?" she shot back.
Silence again. Not the angry kind, not cold. Just wound tight silence.
Matthieu took a slow breath. "Lila, ignoring it won't—"
A knock cut him off.
Both of them jerked toward the door.
Not a soft knock.
A clearly awake, too energetic for morning kind of knock.
Lila frowned. "Who the hell is disturbing my peace by 7 a.m.?" she muttered.
The door opened before she could reach it.
"Camille."
"Lila."
They had a silent standoff.
Her friend stood there in an oversized denim jacket, eyes tired but bright, carrying a small overnight bag and looking like she'd made a life-changing decision at midnight.
"You're surprised." Camille said flatly.
"Obviously. I didn't invite you. I didn't even tell you my address yet."
Camille stepped inside without waiting. "Exactly. That's why I came."
Lila blinked. "You're not making sense."
"I know," Camille huffed, throwing her bag onto the couch, nodding at Mattheiu's rapidly retreating figure. "That's the problem. Nothing is making sense. I'm not making sense. Life is not making sense. So I took a bus."
"A bus? From Étretat?"
"Yes." Camille flopped down dramatically. "Four hours of existential dread."
"Camille… what's going on?"
Silence stretched for a beat. Camille looked everywhere— Mattheiu's receding back, the chandelier—except at her. Then she sighed, the kind of sigh that carried emotional baggage from more than three generations.
"Lila… I think I like someone."
Lila raised a brow. "Okay? And that requires surprising me this early because…?"
Camille groaned and buried her face in a pillow. "Because she's a girl."
Lila froze, her worries long forgotten.
"She?" she repeated.
Camille's voice was muffled. "Don't make me say it again."
Lila sat beside her, eyes wide. "I'm not judging. I'm just—wowed. Camille. That's… huge. Are you okay?. Is she from our workplace?"
"No!" Camille shot up, hair flying everywhere. "She's not from our work place. I'm freaking out right now, I have never liked a girl before. Ever. At all. As in—guys exist, I guess? But her? She's all I've been thinking about for weeks. And then I thought about you yesterday and remembered my promise to bring croissants and I panicked because you're the only person who won't make me feel stupid, so I packed a bag and came here because my brain is melting."
Lila stared.
Camille stared. "Oh, I forgot about the croissants again."
Then, in classic Lila fashion, she snorted a laugh.
"Camille. You didn't have to cross half of France because your heart is literally just doing it's job."
Camille covered her face again. "I hate how chill you are."
"Sucks to be you. I'm literally in shock, allow me." Lila sipped her coffee. "So… who's the girl?"
Camille hesitated, then whispered, "Her name is Zoé."
"Ohhh." Lila smirked. "That name already sounds like a lot of drama."
"She's perfect," Camille groaned. "She works at this art shop near my apartment. She paints small flowers on her nails, when she smiles, her smile lights up the whole room. And she smells like vanilla and turpentine, her eyes are so beautiful they look like melted chocolate dipped in honey!."
"Camille. Oh my God." Lila laughed into her mug. "You're totally gone for her."
"YES!" Camille wailed. "I'm gone. Over. Finished. Cooked. I can't even look at her without forgetting how to breathe. Lila, what if she thinks I'm a creep or something ?"
Lila gawked "She wouldn't."
" What if she doesn't even like girls?. What if I'm actually… into girls? Like properly?"
Lila sighed softly and bumped Camille's shoulder.
"Well, get to know her first before you conclude. And if you're into girls then you're into girls. There's no problem with that."
Camille softened. "You think so?"
"I know so. And honestly? I'm happy for you."
Camille smiled for the first time that morning — small, shy, real.
Then her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Why is your hoodie stretched?" she asked.
Lila choked on air. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You look guilty."
"I always look like this."
Camille leaned in dramatically. "Did you—"
"No."
"Are you sure you didn't—"
"Camille I'm not doing this with you." Lila muttered, cheeks warming.
Camille stared at her for a long moment… then grinned like a shark.
"Oh. My. God. You kissed someone. I knew something was up when I came in and y'all had this look on your faces. And Matthieu disappeared faster than an irresponsible teen father."
Lila groaned. "Please let's focus on your emotional crisis."
"Nope. I refuse." Camille slapped the couch, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "We're unpacking your situation next. "
Lila dragged a hand down her face. "Perfect. Two disasters in one apartment."
Camille beamed. "Reunion of the century."
Lila rubbed her nape shyly, eyes darting everywhere. "It was Matthieu."
" Duh. Who else would it have been?." Camille snorts
"Then why bother asking again if you already knew?" Lila groaned
"I was just curious, are y'all trying out the boss-bodyguard trope?." Camille questions, her expression gossip hungry
"Shut up or I'm gonna throw you out. And that reminds me, if you flirt with me again, I'm telling Zoe to not accept you." Lila threatens
Camille blushes, eyes darting around shyly "W-what do you mean?. We haven't even gotten together yet!."
Lila smirked, having successfully diverted her attention elsewhere " Better safe than sorry. "
Lila decided she'd think about the kiss later or not. There was no time to mop around, she wasn't a giddy teen for fuck's sake.
She had more pressing matters on hand. (A/N: dramatic climatic music plays !!!!!!).
-----
A/N
Hii lovelies
I hope you're fine, I find today's chapter very funny because of their convos 😭😂
So, Camille is gay? 🌚. Do you think she'd end up with Zoe or not? 🤧
Don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts in the comments. I would appreciate it 🙂
Ps: I'd like to make something clear, Matthieu had confessed previously but she was asleep and she didn't hear what he said, so our baby Mattheiu's feelings are practically unknown to her, I don't want any misunderstandings to happen 🌚.
That's all. Bye for now!🙂