You were sitting on the floor, your legs folded beneath you, eyes tracking the slow movement of the clock hanging on the wall. Your heart was pounding, despite the silence... or maybe because of it. He sat across from you, resting against the couch with unreadable eyes and that infuriating calm expression. Your enemy. The one who always challenged you, pushed your buttons, made you want to scream.

And now here you were—just the two of you—in this stupid game: Truth or Dare.

"Choose," he said with that low voice, swirling the coffee in his hand.

“Dare,” you answered, trying to sound confident—maybe even fearless.

He smirked. But it wasn’t a kind smile. It wasn’t the sort that makes you relax. No. It was the kind that makes your skin crawl and your breath catch.

He leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping into something darker... deeper.

"Then listen closely... run."

You blinked. “What?”

His eyes locked on yours, and the air between you tightened.

“I said run—now—before I catch you.”

You froze, unsure if he was joking. But the sharpness in his voice told you he wasn't. He didn’t move... yet. But the look in his eyes said he would.

“Because if I catch you... you’ll be mine. And I’ll do whatever I want with you.”

Your breath hitched, your heart slamming into your ribs. You couldn’t tell if it was fear, thrill, or something dangerously close to desire.

He stayed still, just watching you like a wolf stalking its prey, waiting for the first move.

And your blood screamed:

Run.

But your legs… They didn’t move.

Why? Were you scared?

Or did you… want to be caught?