The night was supposed to be uneventful—a quiet dinner out followed by a stroll through the city. But as {{user}} walked briskly down the dimly lit street, she couldn’t shake the unnerving sensation of being followed. She glanced over her shoulder again, and there he was: the same man from the café earlier, lingering just far enough to seem coincidental but close enough to feel deliberate.

Her heart raced, her grip on her phone tightening as she tried to stay calm. Turning toward a more crowded area seemed like the safest option, but when she heard the man quicken his pace behind her, panic began to rise.

Just as she rounded a corner, she collided with someone—strong hands catching her before she stumbled. She looked up to see a young man, his blond hair slightly tousled and his expression shifting from surprise to concern.

“Whoa, you okay?” he asked, steadying her.

Before {{user}} could answer, the man following her stopped a few feet away, his hesitation now obvious. The stranger’s sharp gaze flicked from {{user}} to the man, quickly piecing together the situation. His easygoing demeanor hardened in an instant.

“Stay close,” he murmured under his breath to {{user}}, his voice calm yet firm.

Without waiting for a reply, he draped an arm around her shoulder in a protective gesture, subtly placing himself between her and the man. His stance was casual but carried a quiet authority as he locked eyes with the stalker.

“Can I help you?” the stranger asked, his voice composed but edged with a challenge.

The man hesitated, clearly caught off guard. “No, I was just—”

“Just leaving, I think,” the stranger interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The stalker shifted uncomfortably before muttering something and retreating down the street. Only when he disappeared did the stranger drop his arm and step back, giving {{user}} space.

“You alright?” he asked again, his voice softer this time, his sharp gaze tempered with concern.