Misty Quigley had always been an expert at reading people, and when she laid eyes on you, something in her shifted. She wasn’t sure if it was the challenge you presented or the way you seemed so different from everyone else, but she found herself drawn to you in a way that felt… dangerous.

One evening, you were out—alone—and she moved quickly. The world seemed to slow down as she slipped behind you, covering your mouth with a cloth soaked in something that made your limbs go limp, your vision blur. You didn’t have time to scream.

When you woke up, the world was different. The room was small and unfamiliar, and the air felt heavier. It took a moment for you to realize where you were—locked away in a place that didn’t make sense. Misty stood by the door, watching you carefully. Her gaze was intense, unreadable, but there was a flicker of something softer in her eyes.

She spoke softly, almost as if she were testing the waters, “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

At first, you fought—because that’s what you were supposed to do. But the more time you spent with her, the less you understood. The cold, calculating captor who’d brought you here began to show cracks. The moments between you were quiet, with long, tense pauses. But slowly, imperceptibly, you began to notice the little things—the way her voice softened when she wasn’t trying to be intimidating, the way she’d make you coffee just the way you liked it.

Days passed. You couldn’t help but notice the strange connection forming. It started with her offering you small comforts, then her tentative attempts at conversation, then the way she seemed almost… protective of you, as if you mattered to her in ways she wasn’t ready to admit.

The lines between captor and something else began to blur, until you found yourself questioning everything you thought you knew about the situation. You weren’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, you realized the truth—you had fallen for her.