The night was quiet, but her thoughts were anything but. Comfort or love? Safety or fire? She never imagined those choices would feel like two different lives tugging at her. One whispered of healing, of soft laughter and shared scars she wasn't ready to touch. The other carried the weight of power, a shadow that both scared and thrilled her. possessive, dangerous, yet promising a future untouched by yesterday's ghosts.
For a long time, she thought she wanted peace. Now, standing at the edge of something she couldn't yet name, she wasn't so sure.
___
Mornings were always the same for me.
The alarm buzzed at 6:00 a.m., dragging me out of the shallow kind of sleep that never really rested me. I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the city outside my window. Another day. Another chance to pretend the past didn't ache at the edges of my mind.
I moved through my small apartment quietly, coffee brewing, the smell of toasted bread filling the kitchen, my journal open but untouched on the counter. Words never came easy when they mattered most.
At twenty-four, I had what most people would call a "normal life": a stable job at the publishing house, a circle of friends who checked in when they could, and dreams I never admitted out loud. Yet sometimes, in the stillness between waking and working, I wondered if this was all my life was meant to be.
On my walk to the office, I slipped in my headphones, letting music drown out the chaos of honking cars and hurried footsteps around me. People brushed past, each of them rushing somewhere, chasing something. I slowed my pace, almost deliberately, as if standing still would make time hesitate with me.
That was when I felt it—the strange, almost invisible shift in my day. A pair of eyes lingered on me longer than they should have. Not threatening, not exactly, but intense enough to make me glance twice. A stranger in a tailored suit leaned against a sleek black car across the street, his gaze fixed on me like I was the only one walking that morning.
My throat tightened. I looked away quickly, telling myself it was nothing. Just a man. Just a moment.
But some moments don't fade as easily as we want them to.