REMI
I walk straight into Sebastian’s room without knocking,
and realise, a second too late, what a spectacularly bad idea that was.
Clearly, I’m not quite myself today.
Maddie’s departure hit me harder than I’d care to admit, and now I’m drifting around the flat like I’ve forgotten how basic manners work.
I turn the handle, push the door open, and nearly collide with Sebastian, who, as luck would have it, was just about to step out.
Brilliant.
Of course.
And, because apparently my brain has left the building, I start babbling.
“Uh, sorry, Sebastian. I should’ve knocked. I’m not really used to having guests... I’ll be more careful.”
He gives me a shy little smile and, yep.
There it is again. That ridiculously distracting dimple on his left cheek, flashing like it owns the room and dragging my last coherent thought down with it.
For fuck’s sake.
Why am I so fixated on that bloody dimple?
I must be coming down with something.
It’s the only reasonable explanation for this fog that’s clouded my brain.
Thankfully, Sebastian doesn’t seem to notice. Or if he does, he’s too polite to say anything.
“No problem, Remi. I’ve showered and changed, actually, I was just coming to find you. I’d love to come with you tonight.”
His voice shifts halfway through the sentence, from eager to just a touch unsure, then he adds, more carefully,
“Unless it’s a problem for you?”
“No, no! It’s totally fine!” I say quickly, trying to sound more relaxed than I feel, while my eyes, completely against my will, sweep down the length of him.
He’s changed into tight black jeans and a fitted black T-shirt, the sleeves cut off at the shoulders. And just like that, my brain short-circuits again.
His arms are covered in tattoos, elegant, detailed lines of black ink that wind across his skin in delicate floral patterns.
They suit him. More than suit him. I’ve never really noticed tattoos before. But on him… they’re stunning.
He shifts slightly under my gaze, clearly aware of it, though far too polite to call me out.
He just stands there, quiet, composed, waiting.
I tear my eyes away and step toward the door, trying to pull myself together.
“Great! Since you’re ready, why don’t we head out now? We’re a bit early, but we could walk part of the way.”
“Sure, Remi. I’d love to walk around London for a bit, it’s been ages. But… where are we going, exactly?” he asks.
“We usually meet at the Blackbird,” I explain. “It’s been our go-to spot since the first year of university. The food’s decent, the vibe’s good… and they’ve got live music a few nights a week.”
I pause, suddenly self-conscious. Why am I rambling about pub gigs to a classically trained pianist?
But Sebastian doesn’t even flinch. He nods with genuine interest, like he’s actually glad to be going out.
Then he drops to his knees on the wooden floor and starts rummaging through his hot-pink suitcase. A moment later, he pulls out a black biker jacket.
God help me. The leather trousers are in there. I just know it.
I glance down at my own outfit: an old beige cashmere jumper, pale blue shirt cuffs just visible at the sleeves, and classic dark blue Levi’s.
Suddenly, I feel… slightly out of place.
But there’s no time to dwell on it.
Sebastian’s already at the door, slipping on a pair of black Converse.
I grab my battered Vans, lock the flat, and follow him down the stairs.
He moves fast, light, and effortlessly, barely checking to see if I’m keeping up. There’s a quiet energy to him, something restless humming beneath the surface. Like he’s always one step ahead, already halfway to the next thing.
As we make our way to the Tube, we start talking, and to my surprise, it’s easy. The conversation flows, no awkward pauses, no forced small talk. And for someone like me, that’s rare.
Whatever tension there was this morning, it’s already fading.
Honestly, I can’t believe I even considered being cold to him.
Now that I’ve actually spent a bit of time with him, I get it.
I understand Maddie a little better.
It’s impossible to dislike Sebastian.
There’s something about him, an openness, a quiet charm, that pulls you in. Like he has his own kind of gravity.
And then there’s that spark behind his bright green eyes, the mischief in his smile, that cheeky dimple…
It’s disarming.
I find myself wanting to know more. To understand him.
To see who he is beyond the past, beyond the stories.
Maybe Maddie wasn’t wrong.
Maybe Sebastian and I could actually get along.
Maybe, just maybe, we could even be friends.