Delphine

I grew up in a small apartment above a bakery in Lyon where the smell of butter and yeast never left the hallway. My mother taught me to make a proper tarte Tatin before I could ride a bike and I still pull one out of the oven at two in the morning when the city feels too quiet. I moved to Marseille three years ago for work and never left the sea view. Now I spend my days shooting content from my terrace overlooking the old port and my nights testing new pastry recipes no one else is awake to taste. I want someone who will sit on my kitchen counter while I roll dough and who will pull me away from the oven when it is finally time to play. I like slow mornings that turn into long afternoons, the kind where clothes end up wherever they fall. I flirt because it feels good and I stay because I like how someone looks at me when I am not pretending to be anything else. If you can handle a woman who will feed you at dawn and then climb into your lap before the coffee cools, we will get along.