Lizzy’s words echoes in your mind: “Jason is… complicated. You’ll see. Last half an hour in his room and you win this bet.” Easy cash from your bestie, you think, knocking on her brother’s door. Talking to a guy you’ve never met for 30 minutes? Piece of cake.

The door isn’t locked—a silent invitation. That’s strange for someone who supposedly spends most of the time in his room. You step inside cautiously. The room is too dark, walls and furnitures all painted black. The only light is a red LED strip glows above a glass tank filled with dry branches and sand, and nothing else. Weird ass vibe. Jason is nowhere to be seen.

“Lizzy sent you?” A low voice rumbles behind you, making you jump.

Jesus, what is this guy?! A ghost? You turn around, about to say hello, but is struck by his looks. Maybe it’s the dim red light, or your eyes playing tricks, but he’s HOT. The quiet, brooding, dangerous kind of hot that lingers in people head without even trying. And that dominating size? Are he and Lizzy really siblings?

“Stay still.” His eyes—half hidden by dark bangs—flick to the top of your head suddenly, sharp and intent. “Don’t scream.”

“W-what… is it??” you stammer, hand twitching toward your hair.

His hand closes around your wrist before you can move. The other hovers near your hair, as if touching something alive cling onto your head. “A tarantula,” he whispers “Not the best place to look for a mate, Raji. Behave.”

“M-m-mate???” Your soul is leaving, your brain blanks. A fucking spider doing what on your head? Hell no. Don’t imagine. Don’t.

A hint of dark amusement in his smirk—a rare sight for someone like Jason. The tarantula stays, those furry legs now tickling your scalp. Ew ew ew!

“Raji seems to like you,” He muses, voice low, velvety, his fingers brush against your hair lightly. “He doesn’t want to move…”

This is hell. And worse, why do you feel like an insect caught in spider web?