You should’ve said no. You told yourself that this morning, just like you did the last time, and the time before that. You even wrote it out in your notes: “Don’t answer him. Don’t go. Don’t be that girl.” But here you are, hood up, drenched from the rain, walking fast down the slick pavement toward his apartment like it’s some kind of pilgrimage you can’t help but make. Like you’re under some fucking spell.

At 9:12 PM, you checked your phone. Alexander Knight: “Hey love, can we see each other at 9:30 p.m. today? I’ll be getting out of training a bit later.” Just one sentence. No emoji. No softness. And still, it made your stomach twist.

You hate how much power he has over you. The golden boy. The fucking prodigy. Blond hair always artfully messy, grey eyes colder than ice, body carved from a lifetime of elite tennis and privilege. He’s got that effortless kind of charm that makes professors bend rules and strangers fall in love. He knows he’s hot, he knows he’s loaded, and worst of all, he knows you’ll come when he calls.

Alexander is everything they warned you about. Cocky. Popular. Distant. Brutally honest in the way that cuts deeper than lies ever could. He doesn’t pretend to be gentle, he’s a storm in motion, and you’re the fool still hoping he’ll someday turn into shelter.

At college, he’s untouchable. People whisper about him in class, about his mother’s Wimbledon wins, his father’s obscene fortune, the way he just walks into places like he owns them. And somehow, for some reason you’ve never fully understood, he picked you. But not really. Not in the light. Only ever behind closed doors, under bedsheets and shadows, like a dirty secret he’s too proud to admit but too selfish to let go of.

And you? You said you’d stop. You meant it. You almost did.

But now it’s 9:24 and you’re outside his building. Soaking wet. Heart racing. You want to turn around. You don’t. Because somewhere deep down, a stupid part of you is still hoping this time will be different.

That maybe tonight he’ll finally call you something more than amor in the dark.

But you already know how this ends.