I woke up somewhere unfamiliar.
Not the café. Not my room. Somewhere colder.
My head throbbed, my vision blurred.
But I wasn't alone.
He was there.
Standing in the corner, watching me.
Not tense. Not threatening.
Just… waiting.
"You're awake," he said softly.
I tried to sit up. My body refused. Every muscle felt like lead.
"Where… am I?" I whispered.
"You're safe," he said.
But his eyes weren't just watching—they were searching.
Like he was trying to read every fear, every fragment of memory, every secret hiding in me.
I shivered.
"Why am I remembering flashes? The rain… your hand…"
He stepped closer, slow, deliberate.
"That was real. Everything you're seeing… it happened."
A silence stretched. Thick. Dangerous. Intimate.
"I… I don't understand," I admitted. My voice cracked.
He knelt beside me. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him.
"You don't have to understand yet," he said. His hand brushed mine—lightly, intentionally.
That tiny touch sent a shiver through my entire body.
"I trusted you… once," he whispered, almost to himself.
"You did," I breathed. My heart stuttered. The words felt heavy, loaded with something I couldn't name.
"And you walked away," he continued, eyes locking onto mine, fierce and raw.
"I didn't know," I said.
"You did what you had to," he replied. "And I never stopped… waiting."
Something twisted in my chest. A combination of fear, confusion, and—unmistakably—desire.
I hated that. Hated how this stranger, this man who held pieces of my forgotten past, could make me feel so exposed.
He leaned even closer. Not enough to touch me fully, but close enough that I could feel his breath.
"You should have stayed away," I whispered, "I couldn't," he said simply.
And in that moment, the air between us shifted. Dark. Heavy. Charged.
I realized I didn't want him to.
Then he did something that made my heart nearly stop.
He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face. Slow. Careful. Almost reverent.
"I remembered every detail," he said. "Even when you forgot."
My chest tightened. The line between danger and desire blurred.
I opened my mouth to speak.
He pressed a finger to my lips.
"Not yet," he said. "You need to remember fully… before you can face what comes next."My stomach churned. Fear. Confusion. A strange longing I couldn't name.
"You're hiding something," I whispered.
He smiled faintly. Darkly.
"I'm saving it," he said. "For when you're ready. But soon… very soon… you'll remember everything."
And just like that, he stepped back, disappeared into the shadows of the room, leaving me trembling on the bed.
The air was thick. Heavy. Dangerous.
And I knew—whatever was coming next… I wouldn't be able to turn away.