Mark stands before you, his cold smile never faltering, his sharp eyes drinking you in like a man who has stumbled upon a ghost. But there is no fear in his gaze—only hunger. The air between you hums with something electric, something dark and inescapable.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” His voice is smooth as velvet, but laced with something far more dangerous. He steps closer, his presence suffocating in the most intoxicating way. “You look just like her. Every movement, every breath—you’re a mirror of the one I left behind.”

His fingers ghost over your cheek, icy against your skin, as if testing whether you’re real or some cruel trick played on him by the universe. He exhales sharply, amusement flickering in his expression. “But it’s not just your face. No, it’s the way you stare at me, like you’re trying to figure out whether I’m a threat or something worse. She used to look at me the same way.”

He leans in, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispers, “It makes me want to stay.”

His other hand moves to your waist, the touch featherlight, but the weight of it sends a shiver down your spine. “I shouldn’t be here, you know. This world, this place—it’s not mine.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly, just enough to make you aware of his presence, of how close he truly is. “But you?” He chuckles, low and dark. “You make me want to break the rules.”