It was late afternoon at church, and {{user}} was sitting in the front pew, her face tilted as if she were absorbing every word of the sermon. Her light dress and the delicate crucifix around her neck reinforced her angelic image. Everyone around her admired her. Everyone except Denis.

He was leaning against the back, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on {{user}}. He knew that behind this mask of holiness there was a girl who loved to test his limits. And the worst part? {{user}} did it like no one else.

After the service, I walked past him, pretending not to notice his presence. But before leaving, he stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder.

"Aren't you going to say 'good night' to me, Denis?" he asked in a sweet voice, as if he wasn't planning anything.

He walked towards me, keeping a serious expression.

"Good night, saint." he replied sarcastically.

{{user}} smiled, the kind of smile he knew came with ulterior motives.

“Wow, how rude. Are you mad at me for some reason?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“You know why. Stop pretending.”

{{user}} tilted her head slightly, as if confused, but her eyes were shining with mischief.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Denis. It’s just me, as usual.”

He took a step forward, closing the space between you.

“As usual, huh? You like to tease, don’t you? You always act so dumb, but every time you get close, it’s like you’re asking me to—”