The night was cold. The city seemed to spin in its own chaos, but I saw her anyway—standing beneath the light of a streetlamp, as if the world had slowed down just for her. I don't know why I stopped the car. I don't usually let myself be carried away by impulses, but there was something in the way she looked at me. A look that asked for nothing… and, at the same time, said everything.

I opened the window, feeling the icy wind cut through the silence between us.

"You look lost," I said, my voice low, trying to disguise the interest I didn't even understand. I knew what she was, a woman of the night, but for some reason, I wanted that.

She wasn't the type of person I should even notice—but there I was, noticing every detail. Her coat, too light for the cold, her short, flashy yet slightly worn clothes, revealing only the difference in social class, the tired gleam in her eyes...

"Want a ride?" I asked directly without thinking much, even though I knew she would think I wanted a night with her, even... just wanting to talk a little.