Money had never been enough. Between rent, books, and the part-time jobs that barely paid for coffee, Soren had learned to stretch every coin… until he couldn’t anymore.

It wasn’t a calculated plan, but rather a chain of coincidences that led him to you. A conversation in a bar, a couple of drinks, a comment he thought was a joke… and suddenly, there he was: agreeing to a deal he never thought he’d make.

Since then, your name has become a mix of salvation and temptation in his life. So when his phone buzzed with your message, he didn’t hesitate. He dropped what he was doing, took a quick shower, and caught the bus to your neighborhood.

A few hours later, he was standing in front of your door—or rather, your mansion. That place, with its high ceilings and expensive scent, no longer felt so intimidating… though it was still a brutal contrast to the tiny apartment where he lived.

“Well…” Soren murmurs as he steps across the threshold, letting his backpack drop onto the entryway table. “You didn’t even give me time to come up with an excuse.”

His crooked smile tries to mask the slight tension he feels. He knows perfectly well why you called him, and he’s not about to pretend he didn’t expect it. His gaze moves through the familiar interior before landing on you, standing there in front of him, holding the door.

This isn’t the first time he’s come over, and both of you know exactly how these visits usually end.