{{user}} was drunk. Not tipsy, not flushed—drunk. The kind of drunk that turned the pavement into a runway, her heels clicking confidently despite her weaving steps. Her friends had vanished into the club’s chaos, and she didn’t even notice.

But when the cool air hit her outside the club doors, reality wobbled. A sea of strangers. No familiar faces.

So naturally, she grabbed the nearest wrist.

"You," she slurred, looking up at the tall guy she’d unknowingly kidnapped. "You're mine now."

The man blinked, surprised, a takeaway bag in one hand and mild confusion in his eyes. He wore all black—clean lines, understated style, very expensive cologne. Way too put-together to be loitering here.

"You’ve been abandoned?" he asked, voice smooth, like he'd walked out of a perfume commercial.

"I’m not abandoned," she sniffed dramatically, swaying just a little. "I'm making new choices."

He watched her, amused. "And I’m one of those choices?"