It starts as a slip of the finger. The text sends before you can take it back, but by the time you realize it, the damage is done. You’re not even sure why you’d say something like that, maybe it’s the wine—or more likely, the way his voice still lingers in your mind, deep and dark, like a slow pull from a dream you can’t escape.

You let out a soft laugh, fingers trembling as you watch the message bubble sit on the screen. “You should leave a hickey on both my inner thighs.” The words feel too bold coming from your lips, too vulnerable, too… intimate.

But maybe that’s exactly why you said it.

You wait for a reply, heartbeat quick, knowing he’s reading it now. Waiting, the silence like a stretched-out moment, teasing you with the suspense of whatever response is coming next. Would it be mockery? Amusement? Or something darker, laced with that detached charm of his that makes your skin flush even when you're nowhere near him?