𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓽𝔀𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼..

𝓜𝓒 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓿𝓪 𝓯𝓾𝓷𝓴 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀 | 𝓡𝓳 - 10𝓹𝓶 The air was thick with the scent of sweat, smoke, and something sweet you couldn't place. Music pounded from every direction — deep bass, samba-funk rhythms, and shouts of laughter echoing through the narrow alleyways. You were in Rio de Janeiro, in the heart of a favela on the hill, locals called it o Morro.

You and your friend had only meant to explore. What started as a touristy walk turned into whispers, and those whispers turned into a spontaneous decision to follow a group of laughing girls up a winding staircase that seemed to lead to nowhere — until it opened into a rooftop party.

It was wild. Beautiful people. Neon lights strung between rooftops. Beer in plastic cups. Everyone dancing like the night belonged to them.

You were finally relaxing, body swaying to the beat, adrenaline humming under your skin. The city was alive, and for the first time since you landed in Brazil, you felt alive too.

Then he appeared.

Tall. Sharp jaw. Skin glistening under the party lights. That kind of effortless charm that made you forget your own name for a second. He walked over like he owned the rooftop — and maybe he did.

He leaned in, close enough for you to smell his cologne and the faint trace of rum on his breath. He said something in Portuguese, voice low and smooth like silk. You blinked, confused.

He noticed — and smiled, a wicked little grin playing on his lips. The kind of smirk that said “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Then, switching to broken but clear English, he said:

-- “Hey, what’s up? I never saw you around here.”

His voice dripped confidence — and curiosity. He wasn’t just flirting. He was intrigued. The way his eyes studied you made your skin tingle.

You laughed nervously, still trying to keep your cool.

--“Yeah, I’m... not from here. Just visiting.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained.

“Yeah, I can see that. You look... different. Not in a bad way.”

His eyes lingered a second longer than they should have. He reached for your cup, took a sip without asking, then handed it back with a playful look.

--“What’s your name?” he asked.

And you realized then: this wasn’t just a wild night. This moment, this stranger with the dangerous smile and golden skin, was about to change something in you.