a/n: you know the drill🤭
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«If this is a rom-com, kill the director.»
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London, 2024
Pierre: I'm outside but take your time, I'll wait ;)
She smiled down at her phone and shot a quick 'alright, I'll be there in a sec' back at him before scanning the whole place searching for Irina's blonde hair. The girl was nowhere to be seen. Salma sighed, already scrolling through her chats until finding Irina's. She was tempted to call her but considering they were at a public event, the chances of her friend answering were minimal. A text would have to do.
Salma: Where are you? Need some signs of life before I leave with Pierre...don't ignore me I'm serious
No immediate reply. She even waited for five minutes, just in case, but nothing. Irina hadn't even checked her phone. Okay, if she wouldn't answer messages then she'd have to call. Her eyes kept looking for the blonde everywhere as she wedged her way between people towards the exit. The tone rang and rang, Irina wasn't picking up. She tried again, and again, all the way until she was out of the venue. Still nothing. She would have to get a GPS to keep track of her.
"Where the fuck are you, Irina?" She muttered under her breath, pressing the call button once more. She searched for Pierre outside and spotted him leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone.
When he noticed her coming his way, he pushed away from his car and raised an eyebrow. She was frowning, phone pressed to her ear and muffling god knows what through gritted teeth. He caught her last sentence, an exasperated 'Irina, seriously' before she halted right in front of him. A sigh slipped past her lips, the phone coming down. He cocked his head to the side curiously.
"Everything alright?" He smiled when she finally looked at him.
"Sorry, sorry," Her hand reached for his, like a natural gesture, and she leaned forward to kiss him. Pierre softly squeezed her hand when she took a step back. Her attention went back to the phone. "I don't know where Irina is. She was with me and then disappeared, and she isn't answering!" She waved the phone in the air, to increase the emphasis of her concern and irritation.
He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to relax. Salma did, inhaling and exhaling, her arms falling to her sides. "We can wait until you're sure she's alright. It's no rush." Pierre offered.
"Yeah, that's—that's good. The longest she'd taken to reply other times was thirty minutes, so I don't think we have to wait too much. I just want to make sure she's lucid enough to go back to the hotel on her own."
"Makes total sense." He took a peek at the inside of the car and turned back to her with a smile. "I got something for you. Might keep us distracted while we wait for Irina to say something."
Her expression changed completely, now the concern had been replaced with intrigue. "I do like to get things. It's not my birthday yet though."
"It might be useful for your birthday party." He added and mirrored her curiosity.
Pierre opened the door for her, a usual gesture, and rounded the front of the car once she was seated inside. From the rearview mirror, she noticed a white bag in the backseat. Like a gift bag with no logo, plain paper white. The sound of the driver's door closing forced her to take her attention away from the bag and pin it on him. He was smiling from ear to ear before leaning to reach for the bag. It remained in the space between their seats, his fingers holding onto it from each side. Salma looked at the bag and then fixed her eyes on his.
