‎The man ran for his life. His breath was ragged, legs trembling and blood seeped from a deep wound on his leg. The dim streetlights flickered as his shadow stretched ahead of him, his own ghost running faster than him.

‎A shiver crawled up his spine as slow, calculated footsteps echoed behind him. Someone was following him. No, not following, hunting him.

‎He tripped. His knees hit the rough concrete and his hands scraped against the dirt. Desperation took over as he turned around, pleading with tear-filled eyes.

‎"Please… let me go! I swear, I won’t do it again. Please!" he begged, his voice cracking.

‎The figure looming over him tilted their head, a gloved finger tracing the cold metal of the silencer resting against their side.

‎"You won’t get a second chance."

‎Before the man could scream, a single shot echoed in the alley. The bullet struck the center of his forehead. Blood splattered onto the ground as his lifeless body collapsed. The silence that followed was deafening.

‎The figure stepped closer, crouching beside the body. A faint smirk played on their lips.

‎"Justice has been served."

‎And then, that figure disappeared into the night.

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‎

‎He caught her wrist mid-step, pulling her back until her spine met his chest. His breath was warm against her ear, his grip firm but gentle.

‎“Do you even know what you do to me, Mira?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, each word threading into her skin.

‎Her pulse quickened. She wanted to speak, to deny, to challenge but when she turned her head slightly, his gaze caught hers. There was no mockery there tonight. No sharp edges. Only a raw, unguarded intensity that made her chest ache.

‎He lifted his hand to her face, brushing away a stray strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek. His thumb lingered there, tracing the curve of her jaw as if memorising it.

‎“You’re mine,” he said quietly, not as a command but like a vow he had already carved into his soul. “And I’m yours, only yours.”

‎Mira’s breath trembled, her heart caught between wanting to run and wanting to stay. The world around them seemed to still, the faint hum of the night, the soft flicker of a lamp somewhere in the distance and his presence… overwhelming.

‎Before she could react, he leaned in, not for her lips, but her cheek. The press of his mouth was warm, deliberate, lingering just long enough for her breath to falter.

‎When he pulled back, his eyes held hers for a beat too long, as if daring her to deny what they both felt.

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