Lila woke the next morning with the events of last night replaying in her mind like a vivid, half-dreamed memory. The wine glass teetering, the hand over her mouth, and those eyes—dark, piercing, impossibly unreadable—haunted her even in daylight. She tried to convince herself it was just a man with too much confidence, too much charm. But deep down, she knew she had encountered something… unusual. Dangerous.
Shaking off the unease, she grabbed her bag and headed out for her morning errands. The city bustled around her, but the feeling of being watched lingered like a shadow she couldn't shake. Every passerby's glance felt momentarily suspicious. I'm imagining it, she told herself, though the pit of tension in her stomach refused to calm.
By noon, she found herself at a small, quiet café tucked away in a side street—a place she often went to think and plan her workday. She set her bag down, trying to relax with a cup of coffee, but the moment she did, something strange happened.
Her phone buzzed—an unknown number—but when she looked, the message was empty. No text, no emoji, just a blank message. Frowning, she tried to delete it, but the phone froze, unresponsive. A shiver ran down her spine. She glanced around, half-expecting to see Adrian's shadowy figure appear from nowhere, but the café was otherwise normal.
Then it happened. The candle on the neighboring table flickered violently, even though there was no breeze. The cups rattled slightly, and the small tabletop sign wobbled as if someone had brushed past it, yet no one had. Lila's pulse quickened. Her mind screamed at her to leave—but something kept her rooted, a mix of curiosity and an unexplainable pull toward the danger she had only glimpsed the night before.
And then she felt it. A coldness on the back of her neck, creeping down her spine like icy fingers. Her hair stood on end, her breath catching. She turned abruptly, heart pounding.
Adrian. Standing at the entrance of the café, just inside the door, his black coat framing him like a shadow. His eyes found hers instantly, and her stomach lurched. He did not move toward her, but the intensity of his gaze was enough to make her feel as if he were stepping closer, even from across the room.
"Lila," he said, voice low, carrying that same dangerous smoothness. "I warned you. Curiosity is… dangerous."
She tried to speak, but no sound came out. It wasn't fear exactly—it was more like her voice had been temporarily stolen, trapped somewhere between awe and disbelief. She blinked, and suddenly, the café felt smaller, tighter, almost suffocating in its intimacy.
"I… I don't understand," she managed to whisper. "What's happening?"
He took a slow step forward, and with each movement, the air seemed to thrum with a tension she couldn't identify. "Do you feel it?" he asked softly. "The pull… the weight of what follows me?"
Her chest tightened. "You… what do you mean?"
Adrian's gaze never wavered. "Some things," he said, his voice barely audible, "cannot be controlled. Not by the strongest, not by the smartest. The curse… it reacts. It tests. It watches."
And then the candle nearest to her flickered violently again, plunging the café into brief shadows. When the light returned, the tip of her coffee cup had shattered slightly, small cracks spreading across the ceramic as if the glass had sensed his presence.
Lila's hands trembled as she set the cup down. She stared at him, heart hammering. "You… you did that?" she asked, though a part of her didn't want the answer.
He shook his head slightly. "No. I do not control it. But it reacts to proximity, to desire, to connection. And right now…" His eyes softened, a flicker of something almost tender hidden beneath the storm, "…it senses you."
The words should have terrified her, yet they did something else. They drew her in closer, pulling at a curiosity she could no longer deny.
"I—" she started, but the sudden vibration of her phone broke the spell. Another message. Blank. She glanced up—Adrian was gone. Just… gone. The space he had occupied moments before now felt impossibly empty, yet the chill lingered, crawling along her spine.
Lila's mind raced. The man was dangerous. There was no question. But the truth, the magnetic pull she felt toward him, refused to be ignored. She touched the tip of the cracked cup with a trembling finger. Something about the way the shards glinted in the soft light reminded her of his eyes: dark, sharp, and unreadable, with secrets buried too deep to uncover.
Her day blurred. Every street corner, every passerby, every shadow seemed to whisper his name. And though she tried to deny it, a part of her thrilled at the thought that he had left her feeling this way—that he had touched a part of her life she had long kept untouched.
By evening, she found herself standing in front of the restaurant again. She didn't know why. Part of her wanted answers. Part of her wanted to run. And part—an unspoken, stubborn part—wanted to see him again.
Inside, Adrian waited. Not at a table, not in the corner, but in the shadows near the entrance. He didn't speak. He simply watched. And as their eyes met, Lila realized something undeniable: the curse, whatever it was, was not the only danger. She herself was already… entangled.
She swallowed hard. "Why do I feel like I can't leave?" she whispered, almost to herself.
He stepped closer, a measured, deliberate motion, and tilted his head slightly. "Because," he said softly, voice low, smooth like the edge of a blade, "you already belong… in this world. Whether you want to or not."
The words sent a shiver through her body. And as he turned and disappeared into the night once more, Lila realized that nothing—her life, her heart, or her safety—would ever be the same.
And somewhere deep down, a small, irrational part of her couldn't wait to see him again.