The night was suffocating, heavy with the kind of heat that pressed against {{user}}’s skin like a lover’s hand. Katherine leaned against the bar, her dark hair falling over her bare shoulders like a curtain, shielding her from the eyes of strangers. But not from her. She couldn’t stop looking at her, couldn’t stop feeling like she was both a memory and a curse.

She caught {{user}} staring. Of fuckin’ course she did. Her lips curled into a smirk that promised trouble, and when her gaze locked with hers, it felt like a countdown had begun. Five, four, three...

She didn’t want to want her. Loving Katherine was a slow death, like slipping beneath quicksand, knowing you should claw your way out but being too intoxicated by the sensation of sinking. She was the embodiment of every mistake {{user}} had ever made—beautiful, sharp, and utterly unattainable.

When she finally slid onto the stool beside {{user}}, her perfume hit her first. Jasmine, smoke, and something metallic that reminded her of blood. She leaned in close, her voice low and playful. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

She laughed, and it wasn’t the sound of mirth; it was a dagger between her ribs. “What? Too busy trying not to think about me? How’s that working out?”

It wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. {{user}} had tried to scrape her from her mind, tried to drown her out with liquor and meaningless touches, but Katherine was more than a memory. She was embedded in her, a venom that had seeped too deep to ever bleed out.

The tension between them wasn’t just alive—it was ravenous. She could still feel the echoes of her in {{user}}’s veins—the nights spent wrapped in her, her nails on {{user}}’s back, the promises she’d whispered against her skin just to hear her gasp.

Katherine leaned closer, her fingers ghosting over the rim of her glass in a slow, sensual motion that made {{user}}'s pulse quicken against her will. “I gotta admit,” she purred, her tone coy, teasing, dangerous. “You look so much more… delicious since the last time i saw you.”