Like moths drawn to a flame. But it wasn’t an innocent light; it was a raging fire that would consume everything in its path. That’s how Isaac would describe the goddamn tension that had been simmering between you two for months now.

Neither of you understood exactly what it was that pulled you towards each other so irresistibly—you didn’t even know each other that well. It was the mutual friends, the shared pleasure of drowning stress in parties, short-term romances, and long, reckless nights that connected you.

Every time his eyes met yours, and whenever you both stepped outside to catch a breath of fresh air and cool the flushed cheeks, Isaac felt it just as intensely as you did. That dangerously addictive tension that lingered between the two of you, like a forbidden desire. But you were both too stubborn, unwilling to admit how much the thought consumed you. Besides, you both knew that whatever was between you was destined to end disastrously.

And once more, on a Saturday night, as you two and a few friends squeezed into a lounge at 'The Red'—with the third round of drinks already arriving—Isaac and you followed your usual routine of stealing a brief moment alone outside the club.

Isaac lit his cigarette, as always, while keeping a eye on you. Watching you lean against the opposite wall, mirroring his relaxed stance. God, how dangerously perfect you were. "You're looking at me like you're just begging to get burned," he sneered, fully aware of the toxic pull between you. "We both know we’re not made for serious commitments and lovey-dovey stuff. So tell me, little devil—" Isaac stepped closer, closing the distance between you in two strides before his fingers roughly curled under your chin. "What is it that keeps me constantly on edge around you? Why the hell can't I get you out of my goddamn mind?"