The rain hit the streets like it was trying to wash away the whole city.
Ayla tightened her thin jacket around her as she walked home after her shift. She'd missed the last bus, her phone battery was dead, and the heel of her boot was giving up. Perfect.
But her mind wasn't on the weather.
It was on him.
Leon Moreno.
Just thinking the name sent a quiet thrill down her spine—and a ripple of fear she didn't want to admit.
He hadn't spoken to her. Hadn't looked at her again since that one night.
But something had changed.
She could feel it.
⸻
She turned onto a street she didn't recognize—quieter, darker.
Not the route she usually took.
But it was faster.
She told herself that.
⸻
Then she heard it.
Footsteps.
Not rushed. Not clumsy.
Purposeful.
She glanced back.
No one.
Still, she walked faster.
The sound continued, steady, closing the space between her fear and the truth.
She reached into her bag for her pepper spray—only to realize she'd left it on the counter at home.
Of course.
⸻
Then, a car pulled up beside her.
Blacked out windows. No license plate. It rolled beside her like it knew her pace.
Ayla stopped walking.
The car did too.
Panic rose.
And then—
The window rolled down.
Just enough for her to see one thing.
Not a weapon. Not a threat.
A pair of dark eyes.
His.
⸻
But Leon didn't speak.
He just stared.
Long enough for her to know she wasn't imagining this.
Long enough for her to know she wasn't just some girl anymore.
Then the window rolled back up.
The car drove off.
And Ayla stood in the rain, shaking.