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Chapter 1: The Departure
Yoan's heart pounded against his chest as he stood outside the airport, surrounded by the chaos of people rushing past. His family huddled close, his mother clutching him in a tight embrace as if she didn't want to let go. His father gave him a firm pat on the back, an unspoken "good luck" in the gesture. His younger siblings bounced with excitement, already asking when he'd come back. But Yoan was too overwhelmed to focus on anything. This was his first time leaving Mauritius, his first time on a plane, and he couldn't shake the nervous energy swirling in his gut.
"Take care, son," his father said, his voice gruff.
Yoan nodded, swallowing hard as he hoisted his bag over his shoulder. The sliding doors of the airport loomed in front of him, promising something unknown, something huge. He waved one last time before stepping inside, the cool, air-conditioned breeze washing over him.
Inside, the airport was a mess of noise and lights. Yoan looked around, trying to find where he needed to go, but everything seemed foreign— like he'd just landed in a different world. He felt out of place, unsure of where to even start. As he fumbled for his boarding pass, he kept reminding himself to breathe.
But just as he was about to head toward the check-in counter, something caught his eye—someone.
She was standing just a few feet away, and it was like time slowed down the moment he saw her. A girl—no, a woman, the kind he had only ever seen in movies or magazines. She was blonde, with long, flowing hair that fell effortlessly down her back, glistening under the bright lights of the airport. Her skin was pale, smooth, with a natural glow that made her look almost ethereal. But it wasn't her face alone that stole Yoan's attention. It was her body.
She wore a tight pair of black yoga pants that clung to her like a second skin, hugging every curve of her perfect figure. Her hips swayed as she shifted her weight, her ass round and firm, so perfectly shaped that Yoan couldn't help but stare. The pants were so tight, they outlined every detail, leaving little to the imagination. His eyes traced the contour of her ass, noticing how even the faint outline of her pussy was visible through the fabric, pressed against the seam in a way that made his breath hitch. It was like nothing he had ever seen in real life, and he found it impossible to look away.
She wore a short top, more like a sports bra than a shirt, revealing her toned stomach. Her breasts, round and perky, sat high on her chest, just enough cleavage showing to make Yoan's mouth dry. Every inch of her screamed sex appeal, and Yoan felt his body reacting, his jeans suddenly feeling tighter than they should. He swallowed hard, trying to force himself to focus on anything else, but he couldn't.
Beside her stood a man. Her man, Yoan realised with a sinking feeling. He was tall—at least six feet—with broad shoulders and arms that bulged against the sleeves of his tight t-shirt. His hair was cropped
short, and his jawline was sharp, giving him that look of a perfect athlete. The guy could have been a football player, the kind every girl drooled over. He had a presence, the kind that made you want to step aside just by looking at him.
And that's exactly what Yoan felt like doing—stepping aside, or better yet, disappearing. He wasn't like that guy, not even close. Yoan was slim, shy, and inexperienced. He had never even had a girlfriend, let alone someone like her. He was 19, still trying to figure out what life was supposed to be, and here he was, standing in an airport, looking at a girl so far out of his league it was laughable.
The guy wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close, and before Yoan could react, they were kissing. But this wasn't just a quick kiss. It was deep, intense, their lips moving together like they were the only two people in the world. Yoan's stomach twisted in discomfort. He wasn't used to seeing something so intimate out in public, but he couldn't stop watching. The way she leaned into him, her breasts
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