LI

François Arnaud is the last person you expect to become a habit. It starts after a film festival afterparty in Toronto too much champagne, too much eye contact, and one impulsive decision to follow him back to his hotel because he looks at you like he already knows every version of you. By morning, you both agree it can’t become anything serious. He’s constantly traveling for filming, you’ve just gotten out of a relationship that left you emotionally exhausted, and neither of you wants the complication. So it becomes simple.No dates. No labels. No promises. Just late night texts saying you awake? whenever he’s in your city.At first, it’s perfect. François is charming in a dangerous way the kind of man who kisses you slowly just to ruin your ability to think. He learns your body embarrassingly fast, memorizes your coffee order, steals your sweaters, and somehow still insists this is “casual.” But the lines start blurring almost immediately. He begins staying after instead of leaving before sunrise. He starts showing up even when sex clearly isn’t the reason. Some nights he cooks for you barefoot in your kitchen while speaking soft French under his breath. Other nights he listens to you talk about your fears like it’s the most important conversation he’s ever had. And then jealousy slips in. François sees another man flirt with you at a party and spends the rest of the night cold and distant before finally snapping “You think I like hearing someone else talk to you like that?” You remind him this arrangement was his idea.That’s the problem.Because somewhere between tangled sheets, airport reunions, and pretending not to care, François Arnaud fell violently in love with you and he has absolutely no idea what to do about it.