Paris, France

Bradley.

BRADLEY had reached a somber hour.

With his body on autopilot, he trudged through the dark streets of France, taking extra notice of how the wind slapped his face. Of how, even with his hands buried deep in his pockets, they still managed to feel stiff and numb. The street he was walking on was leading him downhill, and as he followed it he felt much like a duck waddling through an embankment. He noticed few out with him tonight. A small group of men stood not to far off, all sporting heavy winter coats on their large backs and caps on their heads pulled down past their eyes.

As Bradley moved past them, his nerves ignited. He felt the weight of their stares press on his back like animals assessing their prey. He couldn't believe that he was actually here- he couldn't believe that he actually managed to put himself in such a shitty situation. How could he have ever been so stupid? So- so blind. So willing to throw everything he ever worked for away, like it meant nothing to him?

He sighed through his frown and continued his steady pace down the street. He had to admit, Paris is a beautiful city. With all of its lights and glamour tourists like himself love to see, you could never imagine it could hold such ugly in it as well. The part of the city he was in now was far from the picture perfect Paris he had always heard of. This side, seemingly nearly uninhabitable, came down to nothing more than crushed cigarette butts in the road, low end cars, and sad, deeply intoxicated people at every odd turn. This was the part people dared not to talk about. The part where there were no twinkling lights, no beautiful little designer shops or pleasant smells of fresh pastries and breads filled the air.

He continued his walk for what felt like ages, his face burning from the cold and his hands clenching and unclenching in his pocket. It was only when he noticed the bright cherry red sign marking his destination is when he stopped. He stared for a moment and inhaled deeply, willing his frantically beating heart to steady. This is no pleasure trip, his mind reminded himself. You are here for a reason. Do not mess this up. Do NOT mess this up.

That tiny push was all he needed. With his head held high, and with confidence he didn't feel, Bradley strode into the pub and didn't look back. Whatever demon he would soon face, he would do it with pride.

The first thing he felt as soon as he walked through the door was a shortness of breath, as if his lungs have been snatched from him. The second was the immediate temperature change. He had gone from the brisk cold to an immense wave of heat in the blink of an eye. A thick plume of cigar smoke has settled itself around the room like a fog, the heavy sent forced its way into his nostrils and what felt like his brain.

This, he thought bitterly, is France.

Paris, France. And not at all what he pictured.

He was in the most romantic city in the world, and he couldn't even enjoy it. It had always been a goal of his to come here. To soak in the culture, the music, the wine. But most importantly, to be here with his lady love, Rose. To propose and make her his till death do them part.

Rose.

Just the thought of her in his mind made his heart race madly. Being with her, being near her, always made him feel feverish with love. Bradley felt with every fiber of his very being that she was the one he was meant to spend his life with. He couldn't remember a time he hasn't been without her: where she wasn't the girl right across the street who drew masterpieces in chalk on her driveway, or the girl he grew up making mud pies with in her backyard. She has been his best friend for as long as he could remember, his love for as long as he could remember.

Oh, Rose.

She was the reason why he was here tonight, back in this old God forsaken Pub for the second night in a row; to undo his terrible bidding- his terrible regret. He somehow knew that She would be here again. She just had to be. Predators always hunt the same locations to catch their prey. But this time things will be different. This time, he would be ready for her.

Bradley's light green eyes scanned the room for her familiar shape. He skimmed over every person, the color of their skin and hair, their height and weight, until he found exactly what he was looking for: a sliver of silver that muzzled it's way into the darkest corner of the room, fitting into a torn purple booth.

His heart spiked. He started to self consciously press his palms to smooth out his already smooth shirt, but caught himself and stopped. His attire was simple yet well put together. He wore blue jeans and a large light blue sweatshirt that read in simple print Paris on the front, a gift from Rose which she got their first night here. Pressed protectively against his chest, hidden beneath his sweatshirt, was his gold medallion of a lion, passed down from his father which father passed down to him and so on. On his head he wore a gray beanie, his favorite, pulled down to his ears. He swiped at a stray hair on his forehead reflexively and took another breath, willing his heart to stop racing. He gave himself to the count of three to stop hovering, and then strode over to the booth and quickly slid into the seat before he could give himself time to process he had walked into the belly of the beast.

Bradley opted to avoid her cold gray eyes and bright flashy outfit, two things that he could still somehow see quite clearly in his peripheral. She looked out of place here- like beauty trapped in a shabby version of Gastons bar. He could feel her engulfing gaze on him, soaking him in, beckoning him to dare a peak at her. His heart continued to pace.

Hes not sure how he managed to say it, but found his lips moving on command regardless. " I want to take it all back, Lady. I don't want this anymore."

That was the name she gave him last night: Lady. No last name. Not a real first name, either. She looked to be no older than he was. Possibly younger. Eighteen tops, if he had to guess.

He felt her smile.

"I want you to actually look at me when speaking, Bradley. I don't bite."

Her voice poured from her mouth like honey, so etheral and soft that it tore his insides to hear. He hesitated only a moment before his body got the best of him. As soon as he laid his eyes on her, he felt his heart pump madly in his chest. He took her whole essence in, feeling repulsed at himself for the effect she had on him. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her. With her long, pure silver hair that cascaded over her back and shoulders like silk. Her milky white skin like porcelain against the low lighting of the bar. Her eyes, however cold, stormy gray like a rainstorm. He basked in all of her, and when his eyes landed on her lips, red as a fresh strawberry and perfectly shaped, he felt a tightness around his chest. She looked like absolute perfection, and he hated her for it.

His eyes began to travel lower, to the very exposed section of her chest, where her breasts sat snug in her top. He could pratically sense the feel of them in his hands, The roundess of them pressed against his mouth, his tounge greedily licking her exposed pink nipples. Almost immediately he noticed the constriction in his crotch area form, and shamefully snapped his eyes back to her face. The smell of her perfume invaded his nostrils. It smelled of warm vanilla dipped in sugar, and... and something. He couldn't quite place the scent, but he knew it was all too good to be anything normal.

But then again, he had to remember that Lady was anything but normal.

Her eyes locked on his, seeming like she knew where his thoughts were. Or, better yet, where his other members thoughts were. His face burned. "Better," she proclaimed, folding her perfectly dainty hands on the wooden table. Her nails were long and painted the same shade of silver as her hair. Lady smiled at Bradley, and he couldn't help but think about how that was probably what a sharks grin would look like right before a kill. It was the look of wanting to devour him whole and pick his bones dry while she was at it. Two things she would most likely do, given the opportunity.

Images of the night before played in his minds eye. He remembered how she sought him out here, the way she persuaded him into drinking with her. The inviting way she spoke to him, like he was the only man in the room. How she playfully touched his bicep whenever he made a joke, or how she lightly grazed her slim fingers over his cheek and hair... How she grabbed his hair with more force later that night, her body shuddering under his, her perfect mouth pressed urgently against his ear as she panted and moaned and cried out in sheer ecstasy.

He could still feel as she raked her long silver nails down his back with lust, eagerly whispering to him to fuck her with everything he had. He could feel his orgasm, one filled with such ferocity that as he thrust he shuddered with every stroke. How she moved her mouth from his ear and started working her way down to his neck, giving him passionate kisses and soft nibbles. It wasn't long after that did things start to escalate. She continued to thrust against him, and he felt the moment the nibbles became something more, when her soft plump mouth suddenly clamped down around his neck, her teeth breaking his skin, lodging themselves deeply. It hadn't even hurt. If anything, it was the most amazing feeling he ever experienced. He had howled out in pleasure, wanting more from her, So much more-

STOP!

He swallowed the painful lump in his throat and tried to gather his thoughts. He had to get his shit together, and he had to do it now. He already felt consumed with remorse about the whole thing... about how not once he thought of Rose. The guilt of his actions were driving him hopelessly insane. Even now, he couldn't believe how he had violated such a crucial piece of Rose's trust, how by still having these thoughts he was still violating it, and how she didn't even realize it. He had betrayed her. His one and only love. And for what? To hook up with a woman that he'd met only once, just to fit his own needs, at his own foolish expense? He had just been caught up by her... The way she spoke to him, the way her eyes never left his... How she looked at him like she knew she could make him do whatever she wanted and he wouldn't object to it. That aggravated him on more levels than he could mentally count.

Bradley stared at Lady with his eyes blazing and face grim. Though there was an ache in his groin, felt just repulsed.

"Whatever happened last night, Lady, I don't want it anymore... I want you to take back whatever it is you did to us. I don't want your offer."

She blinked her large gray eyes at him, causing his heart to stutter in his chest. He was sick. He wanted to run away from her... He wanted to pull her into his arms and redo last night... He wanted to die. How could he have such thoughts when he had a woman like Rose? How could he have done what he did? But most importantly, how would he ever be able to make up what he'd done to her? Or what he decided to do to himself in the process.

Lady smiled cordially at him, revealing again her array of perfectly straighted white teeth that, even in the dull lighting, glistened like a thousand tiny stars.

"I'm afraid that it's a little too late for that, Sweetheart."

He balked. "How? We only... This only happened last night. It hasn't been a full day yet."

She shrugged, not looking the least bit apologetic.

"I dont make the rules," she said matter-o-factly. " If I could describe it, I would say to think of it like... marriage. Like back In the olden days. People weren't really married until they had the marriage consummated." She looped her fingers together as an example. "Think of my offer like marriage...when we had it consummated, our essence's linked. Once that happens, there is no getting rid of it."

Bradley's fist clenched. He wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or not, but even so- what could he do to change her mind? His actions were his own. This weight to bare was his own. He had made the biggest mistake of his life and now he had no way of escaping it.

"That's bullshit. There has to be something you can do. There has to be." He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. "I... I will do anything, Lady."

He couldn't lose Rose. Just like he couldn't lose himself. Whatever he had to do to change the damage of his deal to her last night, to erase his infidelity, he would do it. He had to do it.

Lady held her gaze steady, a look of bemusement dancing in her eyes. He could only imagine what awful things were going through her head.

"Well," she said. "Looks like well be here awhile. Why don't you be a doll and grab us a few drinks, sweetheart. I'm parched."

And just like that, his fate was sealed.