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ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ʜᴀᴅ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴀs ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇᴅ.

It was the memories of their intoxicated time together that had convinced him to go in the end. The exhilarating and addictive presence of the woman had left him mind blank and lip gnawed by his own teeth. At first, he had debated the reality of it all- whether she had been as enthralled by him as he was her, or whether she was just another woman who pretended not to know him in order to sleep with him, as had happened a few times in the months since he had arrived in Birmingham. But his thoughts always drifted back to her mesmerising figure that he had only been aquatinted with for a few hours.

Michael had turned up at eight o'clock. It was a time that he had deemed safest, and Valentine was already there as he arrived, sat by the canal's edge, heels sling casually in her hand.

It was like looking at a painting, in which the background was unmatched  and underwhelming against her elegant being and delicate pose. She suited Paris, even London, but in Birmingham she seemed out of place, too much so.

As his footsteps rung against the walls to the side of him, Valentine turned to face him, smiling as she realised it was him. In seconds, his hand was outstretched, wordlessly offering his gentlemanly help in pulling her to her feet, which she accepted. They walked in silence as they began to walk side by side by the canal, elbows grazing often.

The sky was growing darker, thanks to the winter nights cutting into daylight earlier than usual and the only light that was available was from the silvery moon and the low light of the candle lanterns that were dotted across the pathway on occasions. Anywhere else it may have been disappointing- the prosaic and industrial setting. But given that they were in Small Heath, it seemed that they had been blessed by a sky cleared of smoke and a pathway lit by tiny fires.

"Tell me about yourself."

It was Michael who spoke first, breaking the soft silence that had withheld since they begun. He didn't know what it was that made him ask such a personal question, having only shared a few words between them.

Valentine thought for a moment. There was too much holding her back from answering. For one, she didn't entirely trust him yet. Who knew if he was weaselling his way in, thinking her the weakest link of the strong Dubois chain? And for another, Valentine truly believed that she didn't live an interesting life. Aside from her family, and the night life that woke her each evening from her sleepy slump, there wasn't much to say.

"I have a brother." She begun, pausing to think once more. "I moved from France when I was five but my parents still speak to me in the language."

He interrupted her with a smirk. "No, I want to know the interesting stuff."

"I'm not a very interesting person." She brushes offed, shrugging her shoulders.

Michael stopped walking altogether, as they had come to the end of the canal and were now making their way into the outskirts of Small Heath. He had her leaned up against the brick wall behind, pushing her lightly so he could bend his head into the crook of her neck. Her chin was turned, her short hair tickling at his cheek as he breathed in anxiously.

Michael couldn't help his body from moving instinctively. His hand was reached to her jawline, feeling the silk-like texture of her skin as he breathed her in. The words were falling from his lips before he even knew what they were doing. But he didn't regret it.

"I really doubt that, Valentine." He said lowly.

The words sent ripples down her neck thanks to their close proximity. The way he said her name made her shudder. Their effect on each other was effortless, needing few words and minor actions.

"Show me that you're interesting." He said, his words catching as he became breathless at the sight of her leaning in.

Valentine had captured his lips in hers, pulling his face closer to deepen it. The kiss was nothing but lust- they both craved to feel a touch that they had been deprived of. He had moved his lips further down, trailing love bites down her neck, hearing her whimper after his touch.

"Michael." She breathed, as she felt his hand press into her waist and she put her hand in his, tugging slightly until he lifted from her neck and looked her straight in the eye.

She was pulling them away from the canal, emerging into the dark streets of Birmingham that no longer looked eerie in his desire filled hunger. Michael knew where she was leading him in some sense. To her home, where ever that may be. He could sense what was coming in the pit of his stomach, and that only made him walk faster.

"No one's home." She said as she pushed the door open, toppling in behind him.

A simple one night stand for most. But the pleasure that erupted from her room was surreal, and Valentine could tell that she wanted to see more of Michael. Or at least feel him.

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