The rain had stopped, but the city still smelled of thunder. Elena walked through the streets with her arms folded, trying to shake off the strange weight pressing against her chest. Ever since Adrian had stepped into her life, nothing had felt the same. It was as if her reality had been rearranged to make room for him—and she hadn't even given permission.
And yet, around him, she didn't feel the terror she should have. Instead, he wrapped her in this peculiar warmth. His presence was suffocating, but also… familiar, almost nostalgic, like the lullabies her mother used to hum when she was small. She hated it. She hated that she felt safe in the arms of the devil's son.
That night, Adrian appeared without warning, as though the shadows themselves had carried him. His voice was a low hum, smooth and velvet-coated.
"You look like you're running from ghosts, Elena." His eyes glittered with amusement. "But you forget—I am the only ghost that truly matters."
She spun to face him, heart hammering. "Don't you have better things to do than stalk me?"
He only smiled, stepping closer, the faint scent of smoke and steel clinging to him. He reached out, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. It was the smallest touch, but it carried the weight of chains.
"You're trembling. And yet," he whispered, his breath grazing her skin, "you feel safe, don't you?"
Her lips parted to argue, to deny, but her body betrayed her. The warmth of his hand anchored her. No matter how her mind screamed to run, her heart twisted into something softer. Nostalgia. Comfort. Safety in darkness.
Adrian leaned close, his voice curling like smoke in her ear. "I can give you what no one else can, Elena. A world where no harm touches you. A world where you belong."
Her chest tightened. His words were poison wrapped in silk.
But before she could respond, a voice cut through the night.
"Elena?"
Her body stiffened. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it in years, yet it carried her straight back to hallways filled with sunlight, books pressed to her chest, and laughter that once felt endless.
She turned.
There, standing at the edge of the streetlight, was Damian—her old senior from school. His hair was longer now, his posture looser, but his smile… it was the same smile that used to pull her into the kind of mischief that made her heart race.
"Elena, is that really you?" Damian stepped forward, eyes shining with recognition. "I almost didn't believe it."
Adrian's hand froze against her cheek. Slowly, deliberately, he withdrew it, his eyes narrowing like a predator sighting prey.
Elena's throat went dry. "Damian… I—what are you doing here?"
"Just passing through," he said, chuckling as though fate had played a kind trick. His gaze flicked briefly to Adrian, then back to her. "Didn't expect to find you wandering around this late. Same old Elena."
Her heart twisted. Damian radiated something Adrian never could—wildness, recklessness, the rush of running down forbidden paths. If Adrian was chains dressed as silk, Damian was wind tearing through open fields. Unstable. Untamed. Alive.
Adrian stepped forward, placing himself between them, his height a shadow that swallowed Damian's warmth. "And you are?" His voice dripped with lazy menace.
"An old friend," Damian said smoothly, unfazed by the darkness rolling off Adrian. He tilted his head toward Elena. "We go way back."
Elena's stomach churned. She could feel the storm brewing between them, two forces pulling her in opposite directions.
Adrian's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Old friends have a way of overstaying their welcome. Don't you agree, Elena?"
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Damian only laughed lightly, his hands tucked into his pockets, completely at ease. "Funny thing about old friends, though," he said, eyes locked on hers. "They remind you of who you really are. Not who someone else wants you to be."
Adrian's smile faltered. A flicker of red danced in his gaze.
"Elena," Damian said, softer now, stepping closer, "do you remember the old rooftop we used to sneak onto? The one with the stars spread out like they belonged only to us? I still go there sometimes. It feels the same—wild, free, like the whole world could fit into your lungs if you just breathe deep enough."
The memories came rushing back. Running across the schoolyard, the thrill of breaking rules, Damian's laughter echoing like a dare. That feeling of being alive, unchained, unstoppable.
Adrian's voice sliced through her nostalgia. "Or," he said, his tone silken, dangerous, "you could stay here. With me. Where you're safe. Protected. No risk. No pain."
Her chest tightened, torn between the warmth of the devil's false safety and the dangerous call of the wild her senior represented.
Damian extended a hand, his smile daring. "Come with me. Just for tonight. I'll show you that the world isn't made of cages."
Adrian's hand brushed against hers, his grip firm, possessive. "Or stay with me, Elena. And know that no one—not even fate itself—can touch you."
For a heartbeat, she stood caught between them, her heart in chaos. Two worlds stretched out before her: one of dark chains that felt like home, and one of reckless freedom that promised to burn.
And deep inside, she knew neither choice would end without scars.