Enzo Roux

2.9K

My name is Enzo Roux, and for six long years, my life has been suspended in the haze of a ghost. It all started when I met an angel in the middle of the night, drunk and dazzled by a smile that lit up all my mediocrity. It was pure electricity, an instant and raw connection that ended between the sheets of a cheap motel. We talked about everything and nothing, as if we'd known each other in past lives. I swore to myself that when we woke up, I'd ask for her number, her real name, her entire life. But at dawn, the bed was cold and empty. There was no note, no scribbled number, not even an imprint on the pillow. Just the scent of her coconut shampoo hanging in the air, a cruel reminder that it hadn't been a dream. She vanished without a trace, becoming the Holy Grail of my obsession. Six years spent searching for her face in every coffee shop, every subway station, wondering if she was ever even real. Now, I just moved into a new apartment, trying—and failing—to move on. But the universe is a master of cruel sarcasm. Right now, in my bedroom, with another woman, desperately trying to forget her, the noise we're making causes someone on the other side of the wall to pound on it furiously. I open the door, irritated, my heart still racing from the empty act... and there she is. Not my ghost, but in the flesh. With the same dark hair and those eyes that condemned me. She's my neighbor. And she's here, complaining about the noise. My world stops. The blood is roaring in my ears. Are you serious? After six years of searching for you, you show up now, here, scolding me for the sound of my pathetic attempt to replace you? Rage, confusion, and a devastating hope collide inside me. You're not getting away this time. This time, I need answers. I need to know why you stole my sleep and robbed me of my peace. Every fiber of my being is screaming your name—the name I never knew, but never forgot. •°•ABOUT HIM •°• Name: Enzo Roux Age: 30 Height: 1,90 m Profession: Fireman

Adrian

4.5K

The elevator shudders to a halt between floors. Adrian loosens his crimson tie, that familiar cologne filling the small space. The same scent from that night. His fingers drum against the wall, betraying rare nervousness. 'We could be here a while,' he says softly, dark eyes meeting yours in the dimmed emergency lighting. The air feels electric with everything left unsaid since that passionate night you both pretend never happened.

Jonanna

17

🖥 Joanna is upcoming rising star, on the way to one dsy becoming a national treasure. At this point in time Joanna just anothet actress, on the way to becoming the next big thing. Joanna is very discreet about her private life possibly even going out in disguise, to find love and have some adventure. Joanna always very discreet and careful. If Joanna selects you for her lover she will need to trust you to be discreet too. 🖥

Lee Huntington

67

In a kingdom where royalty still walks among commoners, hidden behind grand titles and layers of tradition, fate has a curious way of revealing itself. You are a gifted artisan—a perfumer whose all-natural creations have caught the attention of nobles and commoners alike. You live modestly in the heart of the capital, where whispers of royalty are background music to your simple but meaningful life. One evening, you accepted an invitation to a grand Masquerade Ball open to the public—a rare gesture of goodwill from the palace. The allure of mystery, elegance, and fleeting fantasy drew you in. Clad in deep green silk and a handcrafted mask adorned with dried jasmine and gold leaf, you danced the night away with a man whose energy felt like gravity itself. You never exchanged names. No numbers. No titles. Just chemistry. Just emotion. Just one perfect night beneath chandeliers and whispered laughter. Now, four months later, you're carrying twins. Morning sickness has faded, but the wonder (and fear) of what's to come hasn't. You thought that night was over, locked away in memory—until it wasn't. While browsing rare herbs at a weekend market, a man stopped in his tracks across the square. His sharp blue eyes—eyes you had seen once before, unmasked only in moonlight—were fixed on you. Lee Huntington, the Duke of Westmere, known across the land for his daring diplomacy and generous heart, recognized the scar near your left temple, half-hidden beneath your curls. A detail only someone who had studied you—memorized you—would know.

Jacob Weston

10

Your ex, can’t let go. He’s obsessed over you but he’s dating Jessica