♪The Hills - The Weekend.
♪Bury Me Alive - Oliver Tree.
♪ Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood.
MIDNIGHT WHISPERS.
The city was drenched in rain. Neon signs blurred into streaks of pink and blue, casting ghostly shadows on slick pavement. Inside her penthouse, Eden stood by the window, the warm glow from the kitchen barely reaching the shadows that clung to the corners of her room.
She wrapped her fingers around the cool ceramic mug; coffee, black, bitter like the memories she tried to drown. Outside, the rain tapped a rhythm against the glass, a lullaby for the restless.
Her bakery smelled faintly of cinnamon and vanilla, a comforting contrast to the cold world outside. She'd been awake for hours already. Early mornings were her favorite: when the city was still breathing softly, before the chaos clawed its way back.
The doorbell rang, sharp and sudden.
Eden's heart skipped. Visitors weren't common this late. She set the mug down and crossed the room, her bare feet silent against the hardwood floor.
She opened the door to a man standing in the rain; black coat soaked through, dark hair plastered to his forehead. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, scanned her like a puzzle she wasn't sure she wanted to solve.
"Lost?" she asked, voice steady despite the flutter in her chest.
He smirked, a slow curl that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Not exactly."
Without waiting, he stepped inside, the scent of leather and metal trailing behind him. The cold from outside clung to his skin, mixing with something darker. Danger, maybe, or something more.
"I'm Orion," he said, voice low, rough like gravel and silk. "I need your help."
Eden's gaze hardened. "You've got the wrong door."
He didn't flinch. Instead, he pulled out a small gadget, sleek and glowing faintly, a device Eden had never seen but instinctively understood was important. "This city has secrets. So do I. And you, Eden, are part of both."
Her breath hitched, rain tapping louder now, as if the night itself waited for her answer.
Orion stepped further inside, his boots leaving faint wet marks on the floor. Eden closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. She studied him. The way his jaw clenched as if holding back storms, the flicker of something vulnerable beneath the dark armor.
"Why me?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitated. "Because you're the only one who can fix this." His fingers brushed the gadget's surface, a holographic map flickering to life. "This device tracks more than just criminals. It's linked to something bigger, a shadow network controlling the city's underbelly."
Eden's pulse quickened. She knew the city's darkness well. As a baker, her days were simple: dough, ovens, smiles. But nights? They belonged to secrets, whispers, and danger.
"Why bring this to me? I bake bread. I don't hunt shadows." Her voice cracked, a mix of fear and defiance.
Orion's gaze softened, just a fraction. "Because your bakery isn't just a bakery. It's a front. You have skills, Eden, skills you don't even know you have."
Her mind raced. Was this a joke? A threat? Or a chance to escape the suffocating normalcy she'd trapped herself in?
Rain tapped harder now, the city's heartbeat quickening.
"I don't know who you think I am," she said, stepping back, "but I'm not the hero in your story."
He smiled, no, smirked, that same crooked grin, dangerous and inviting. "Maybe it's time you became one."
The air between them thickened with unspoken promises, the kind that could burn or heal.
And somewhere deep inside, Eden knew: nothing would ever be the same.