Hair brushed. Lashes darkened. No lip color—just the faintest trace of last night’s bruising still haunting my mouth.
Let him see it.
Let him remember.
I stepped out.
And there he was—leaning against the doorframe like a devil in disguise, arms crossed, smirk in place, pretending like he hadn’t torn me open twenty-four hours ago.
His eyes raked over me, slow and deliberate, landing on the boots before dragging back up to my mouth. That damned mouth.
“Nice choice,” he said, voice smooth like velvet over steel.
“Thanks,” I replied, tone clipped, arms crossed over my chest like a shield..
He pushed off the frame and opened the front door for me like we were playing house. The perfect gentleman. A lie wrapped in tailored black.
“After you,” he said.
That voice. That calm command masked as charm.
I hesitated for a second. One heartbeat.
Then I walked past him, chin high.
The air outside hit me like a reset—cool, crisp, real. But the weight of him followed me, each step echoing just behind my own. I could feel his gaze on my back like pressure, like possession he hadn’t earned.
We reached the car—a sleek black machine that looked more like a threat than a ride. Of course.
He opened the door for me.
And I hated how it made my pulse spike.
The gentleman act didn’t suit him. It was too clean. Too curated. We both knew there was nothing noble about this.
Still, I climbed in.
Because whatever game he thought we were playing—I wasn’t backing down.
The car ride stretched into an eternity.
A quiet, tense, heavy thing that sat between us like smoke.
I stared out the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of grey and gold, buildings and streetlights bleeding into one another. He said nothing. Not a word. Just sat there, composed and unreadable—like he hadn’t torn my world sideways and kissed me with blood on my lips.
I could feel him watching me. I didn’t have to look to know.
His gaze was heavy. Probing. Like he was trying to peel me open with sheer silence.
And it was working.
The longer he let me stew, the tighter my chest coiled.
What was this?
Some new tactic? Another way to unnerve me? To keep me guessing?
I wanted to scream.
