act I[structure]
like a prelude, it sets up the quirky backstories, the awkward meet-cutes, and the inevitable “will they or won’t they” tension
the action-packed flash-forward[trope]
when the story leaps ahead to a future filled with epic showdowns, high-stakes drama, and enough adrenaline to give a caffeinated reader a heart attack
Hunting down a serial killer isn’t as glamorous as one might think.
But I have to admit, if I wasn’t preparing to face a cold-blooded murderer, I’d appreciate the ambience of the library at night. The stillness, the quiet, the way the moonlight filters through the tall windows, casting soft, silvery beams on the worn wooden floors. It smells like old books and dusty wood, like evenings made for studying and days filled with reading.
Silly of me to choose my favorite place for the showdown that I might not survive, though I guess there’s a certain poetry to it. I’ve spent my life around books—might as well die surrounded by them.
I tiptoe between the towering bookshelves, clutching my pink Taser like it’s a medieval sword. My heart is doing an anxious tap dance.
I know he’s here. Iledhim here. But now that I’m actually about to face him with a Taser, I can’t help but think… maybe luring him into a deserted library was a bad idea. Especially with a weapon that looks like it belongs in Barbie’s Dreamhouse.
A faint rustling sound catches my attention, and I freeze. My breath hitches. The noise comes again—somewhere in the far corner of the library. For a moment, I wish it could be a mouse or someone sneezing outside.
No, Scarlett.
This is it. Tonight it all ends.
I inch forward, weaving through the shelves, my steps quiet, as though caught under a librarian’s disapproving glare. My palms are clammy around the Taser’s handle, and my breathing feels obnoxiously loud in the silence.
Then I see him. He’s there, at the end of the aisle, all dark and brooding, with his old leather jacket and that stupid, soft, infuriatingly perfect hair.
I duck behind a desk and take a deep breath.Okay, Scarlett, you’ve got this. You’re a strong, capable woman. A strong, capable woman with a Taser and zero experience in confrontations that don’t involve passive-aggressive emails to customer service.
I peek out from behind the desk. He’s still there, silently waiting like he has nowhere else to be. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure I’m about to faint.
I grip the Taser tighter, reminding myself of its presence.Just sneak up behind him, give him a little zip-zap, and boom—hero status achieved.Easy, right?
I move forward, inching closer and closer until I’m right behind him. My heart’s hammering, and I can almost feel the electricity of the Taser pulsing in my hand. One more step…
My hand is poised to strike, but just as I’m about to make my move, he turns around with startling speed. His speckled gray eyes lock onto mine, and recognition flickers in them. His hand moves in a blur, pulling a gun from his jacket and pointing it directly at my forehead.
He has a fucking gun. And it’s not pink.
“Really?” I mutter, blinking at him. “Youhadto bring a gun?”
He arches an eyebrow, a half smirk that would be incredibly attractive if I wasn’t so busy internally screaming. “Were you planning on…stunningme with that?” He gestures to the Taser in my hand like I’ve just brought a rubber duck to a knife fight.
I glare at him, desperately trying to retain some level of dignity while simultaneously trying not to wet my pants. “I promise it won’t feel as pink as it looks.”
His eyes sparkle as he chuckles.Chuckles.Like this is all some grand joke. “You know, I had you pegged as smarter than this,” he says, his chin jerking down. “You lead me here and show up with that? What did you figure would happen next, exactly?”
I narrow my eyes at him, trying to stand taller, even though I’m currently staring down the barrel of a gun. At this point, my entire strategy has boiled down todon’t pass out, but he won’t hurt me, right? Without me, he’s done. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m here. And you’re coming with me now.” He tilts his gun to the right, his eyes flicking behind me. “After you, Freckles.”
I hesitate, considering for a moment whether I can make a run for it.
There’s no point. I’m fucked.
With a muttered curse, I turn around and begin walking. “This isexactlywhy I don’t do romance.”
two weeks earlier
