The air was thick with secrets. Not the kind spoken in hushed voices, but the kind that curled in the space between stolen glances and fingers that lingered just a second too long.
She stood there, one knee resting on the silk-wrapped mattress, her body poised like a temptation carved from moonlight. A silent promise in denim cutoffs that barely clung to her frame. Midnight hair cascaded down her back, smooth, untamed, just like the way she played this game.
“Are you just going to stand there?” she teased, her voice light as smoke, curling toward him.
He exhaled, slow, controlled. Or at least, he tried to be.
“You like making people wait, don’t you?” he mused, stepping forward, the weight of his presence pressing into the dimly lit room. The golden glow from the ceiling traced the delicate arch of her spine, the tempting curve of her hips.
A smirk curled at her lips as she tilted her head. “Patience is such an underappreciated virtue.”
She lifted one foot, resting it gently on the edge of the bed, the slightest shift in her stance unraveling the careful tension in the air. He caught the movement—the way the shadows kissed the smoothness of her thighs, the whisper of skin against the sheets.
“Is that what this is? A lesson?” he asked, voice low, rough.
She dragged her fingers along the hem of her top, her nails grazing over her skin with delicate precision. “Maybe.”
A beat of silence. Heavy. Charged.
He wasn’t sure who was pulling whom into this web. He had arrived, expecting control, but she had stolen it from the moment she locked eyes with him.
With a slow, deliberate motion, she reached for the lamp beside the bed, fingers brushing against the switch. “Tell me something,” she murmured.
He stepped closer, barely an inch away now. “Anything.”
Her lips parted, amusement flickering in those wickedly dark eyes. “Would you still want me… if I disappeared after tonight?”
A trap. He could hear it in the way she breathed, in the way her words dripped with something bittersweet.
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let his fingertips trace the air between them, barely touching her, but close enough to feel her warmth.
“Are you a dream, then?” he whispered.
She laughed, soft and knowing. “Maybe I am.”
Then, the room went dark.
And the night began.
