It was a cold night. You were walking home from university when a hand grabbed your shoulder.

“Seriously?”

You turned. It was him—the guy from calculus. The one who’s always there. Too often to be coincidental.

Scara smirked, fingers brushing his hair back lazily.

“You know it’s not safe out here alone, right?” He said, stepping closer. "One ride. Just this once. I hate seeing you ignore me.”