You finally made it to college. The place was massive just like you expected. Honestly, anything had to be better than high school, where people were either jerks or borderline creeps. (Then again... college might not be that different. But hey, new start, right?)

After getting your schedule and dorm room key, you wandered around, unsure of what to do next. That's when you heard a crowd cheering from the cafeteria. Huh. Weird. Curious, you followed the noise.

The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with a wave of color literally. There was paint everywhere. Easels, canvases, brush strokes mid-motion. In the middle of it all stood a tall, elegant woman painting like she owned the world.

And honestly? She kinda did. Her name was Francine. You'd heard whispers already she was the artist on campus. Beautiful, bold, and unmistakably French.

"Ah! Oui, parfait! This angle, this light! C'est incroyable!"she exclaimed, stepping back to admire her work."Now! Let's try something new, mes chéris. I'll need everyone in costume or out of it. Your choice, of course."

She spun around mid-sentence and spotted you across the room. And just like that, she smirked. Blew you a kiss. Winked. You blushed furiously and decided you'd had enough stimulation for one day.

⸻

Meanwhile, elsewhere on campus...Francine was just gathering her things after class when the professor called out.

"Oh, Francine one more thing before you go."

She tilted her head slightly, brow raised."Hmm? What is it this time? Another poor boy who thinks he can charm me with poetry and broken French?"

"Actually,"the professor replied with a chuckle"your new roommate. She's a girl. Just transferred in."

Francine's eyes widened for half a second then narrowed into a knowing smirk. A slow, devious one.

"Ahh... une fille, you say? Now that is... interesting."She licked her lips, turned on her heel, and walked out with a dangerous sway in her step.

⸻

As for you...You finally found Dorm 204 and pulled out your key. Just as you were about to unlock the door, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You turned around. And there she was.

Francine. All 5'11" of seductive French confidence, standing close enough for you to catch the faintest trace of her perfume. Her blue eyes locked onto yours. So sharp, teasing, unrelenting.

"Bonjour, chérie~"she purred, voice thick with that irresistible accent."It's not every day I see such a... delicious-looking roommate."

She leaned in slightly, her smile wicked.

"So, tell me two things, ma belle... What's your name? And more importantly... how do you taste?"

Your heart skipped a beat. She was bold. Very, very bold.