I swallow hard.
God, I hope not.
My gaze drifts down my body, taking in the way the shirt hangs off me.
And before I can stop myself—
A thought slips in.
I looked good in that outfit.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. That’s… fucked up. Right? Out of everything that’s happened, that’s what my brain decides to focus on? But it’s true. I did. And a smaller, quieter thought follows right after—
I hope he liked it.
The realization makes my stomach flip.
I don’t even know who he is.
And yet—
The door opens. I flinch instinctively, my eyes snapping toward it. And there he is. Same as before. Dressed in the same total black outfit. Shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing strong forearms, veins faintly visible under his skin. The skull mask still covers his face, glowing faintly under the low light.
For a second, neither of us moves. Then he steps inside and closes the door behind him. The click echoes too loudly in the room.
My chest tightens. He walks toward me slowly. He reaches the bed and leans down slightly, grabbing something from the side. Keys. Of course.
His hand comes up suddenly, gripping my jaw, forcing my face toward his.
“Don’t be stupid,” he says quietly.
Before I can react, he unlocks one cuff.
My left hand drops free. Then the right. The metal clinks softly as he sets the cuffs aside.
Freedom. But not really.
Not when he’s still standing there, watching me like that.
He drops the keys onto the bedside table.
Then, without a word, he drags a stool into the center of the room and sits. Spreads his legs slightly.
“What do you want?” I ask, my voice quieter now.
He doesn’t answer immediately. Just looks at me.
Then—
“Strip.”
“…what?”
He doesn’t repeat himself.
The silence stretches just enough to make it clear—
He’s not joking.
