The hallway was dimly lit, echoing faintly with the sound of your footsteps — until they were drowned out by his voice, calm but carrying weight.

“You always walk like no one’s watching. Bold. I like that.”

You turned. Antonio was leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, arms folded tightly across his chest. His gaze locked onto yours, unwavering.

“I’ve seen your type before. Brave, reckless… pretending you’re not scared of anything.” A pause. “But me?” He pushed off the wall, slowly approaching, each step measured. “I don’t pretend. I don’t bluff. I don’t run.”

He stopped in front of you, tilting his head slightly, voice low.

“So tell me, are you going to stand your ground — or are you just another one who talks big and folds when it matters?”