You lit the cigarette with shaky fingers. You weren’t supposed to be out here. Not alone. Not with him.

He didn’t say a word at first, just watched. Leaning against the hood of a car like he had all night. All the time in the world. His sunglasses still on, even though the moon was the only thing watching.

“You always did like pretending you had a choice,” the Corinthian finally said, voice smooth and low, like a whisper that knew too much. “You’re stubborn. I like that.”

You didn’t turn. Just exhaled smoke into the cold.

He moved behind you, quiet as a shadow. No warning. No footsteps. His breath brushed the back of your neck. You could feel it more than hear him.

“They said you were smart. Careful. But here you are.”

His fingers brushed your arm like it was nothing. Like touching you wasn’t a threat.

“Out here in the dark… with me." There was a long pause, his fingers lingering just above your arm, driving up to your shoulder, barely touching your skin.

"Lucky for you, I like to play with my food first.”