The moon rose earlier than expected that night, as if conspiring in your favor. Discreetly escaping from your uncle's house was almost too easy. The school routine in that small town where every face knows your name — and your past — was suffocating.

But lately, your thoughts had turned to a new figure. Beliath.

The newcomer who seemed tailor-made for your most secret desires: discreet, enigmatic, and deliciously absent. His presence was rare, but striking — like a perfume that lingers in the air even after the person wearing it has already left. His dark hair with purple highlights and the gaze that seemed to see beyond the flesh made him impossible to ignore.

In the improvised nightclub that Friday, vibrant sounds and mixed aromas filled your senses. You had already walked three times among dancing bodies, eyes attentive, but still no sign of him. On the way back to the bar, the sound of the rain outside intensified, dragging the atmosphere into something denser. More charged.

It was then that she heard it.

"Looks like we're going to have to warm ourselves with the fire of your 'I told you so', huh?"

That voice, warm as sin, sounded along with the light clink of ice in the glass. He was there—by her side as if he had always been. A cynical smile on the corner of his lips, and the world slowing down around him.