Karros stepped into the balcony and I flinched, startled by his sudden presence. Only for a moment though, because deep down I had been hoping he would follow. I had known he would. The music from inside thudded faintly through the walls while the air out here felt cooler, cleaner, and I leaned against the railing, letting it brush over my skin as my heart tried to catch up.
"Alright," he said, handing me the joint, voice low and rough around the edges. "You've never smoked before?"
I nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze. "First time."
He tilted his head slightly, a playful smile playing on his lips. "So what are you doing here then? You don't even sound like you belong here."
My brows lifted. "What does that even mean?"
He chuckled, leaning closer, the heat radiating from him made my stomach tighten. "You talk different. Not like them," he said, pointing toward the room. "And you don't look like someone who just decides to smoke weed on a random Friday night."
"I guess I'm full of surprises," I said, taking the joint, trying to mimic how he held it. I inhaled too fast and immediately doubled over coughing.
He laughed quietly, the sound low and warm, vibrating somewhere deep in my chest. His hand came up to my back, gently patting it. "Easy. Don't rush it. You'll get it."
His hand lingered, warm and firm against my skin, and I felt a jolt run through me, sharp and electric. I tried to breathe normally, but the closeness, the scent of him, the low rumble of his voice, and the sheer force of his presence blurred everything else around me.
When I finally straightened, I met his eyes. "Happy now?" I croaked, half embarrassed, half amused.
He grinned, full lips stretching wide. "Getting there."
"So," he said, leaning against the railing, muscles flexing under the dim light, "why did you really come here tonight?"
I shrugged, twisting the joint between my fingers. "I guess I needed some excitement in my life, things have been boring lately."
His gaze softened slightly. "Bored, huh? That is dangerous."
"Maybe I like dangerous," I said before I could stop myself.
His smirk deepened, dark eyes glinting. "Careful saying things like that around me."
I laughed, though it came out shaky. "Why? You planning to corrupt me?"
He leaned closer. "I do not think I need to," he murmured. "You came here on your own, remember?"
We burst out laughing and for a second, neither of us spoke. The music inside faded to a distant hum, and all I could hear was the thudding of my heart.
I tried to focus on anything else. The smoke, the laughter, the faint scent of weed—but he was impossible to ignore. Every time he spoke, it felt like his voice wrapped around me, pulling me closer.
When he smiled again, the glint of his earrings caught the light. His thick, perfectly shaped hair framed a face that was both rough and strikingly handsome. The prominent nose and bushy eyebrows gave him a commanding presence, full lips that hinted at mischief and danger. Every time he moved, the light caught the faint sheen of sweat on his dark skin, the thick hair on his chest and arms, and the sheer size of him. I looked away quickly, pretending to be fascinated by the smoke curling from the joint.
"You know," he said after a while, "I still don't get it."
"Get what?" I asked, curiosity tugging at me.
"Why you're here." His eyes narrowed slightly, studying me. "You just don't fit. You're too different . Too—"
"Too what?" I challenged, meeting his gaze.
His lips curved into a half-smile. "Too clean for chaos like this."
I laughed. "You really think I am that innocent?"
He leaned forward, close enough that his breath brushed my cheek. "No," he said softly. "I think you're curious. And that is worse."
My chest tightened. "Worse how?"
He held my gaze for a long moment. "Curiosity gets people into trouble."
I swallowed hard. "Then maybe I'm already in trouble."
The look he gave me then, sharp and hungry, something I could not name, made the room feel suddenly smaller. His silence spoke louder than any words.
I felt my cheeks heat and looked away, pretending to be interested in the night sky. "You think you know too much about me."
"Maybe I do," he murmured, stepping slightly closer. The air between us seemed to hum, magnetic and charged. "Or maybe I just feel it. Something between us. Something you cannot name."
I did not respond. I could not. Every instinct in me, every pulse of my blood, was telling me to stay, to let him close, to let this pull take over. His presence was all-consuming, heat and scent and power all wrapped into one, and it made the world shrink down to just the two of us.
"You know," he said after a pause, his voice dipping lower, "this feeling is not just in your head. You feel it too, don't you?"
I swallowed hard. "Yes," I whispered, barely daring to admit it.
A slow, sharp smile spread across his face. He reached for my hand, our fingers tangling. The touch sent sparks straight through me, deeper than anything physical. "Then you understand," he murmured. "You cannot resist it, and neither can I."
I nodded, almost incapable of speech. The faint balcony light glinted off his dark skin, highlighting every curve of his powerful body, the thick hair along his chest, the defined muscles in his arms and shoulders. I could feel the energy between us, electrifying, buzzy.
"Be careful," I said finally, voice soft, almost pleading. "I do not know what this is."
He leaned closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath against my cheek. "Neither do I," he admitted, "but I know it is real. And it is ours, whether we want it or not."
I shivered. I wanted to run, to deny it, but every part of me was telling me to stay, to let this happen. The pull between us was magnetic, primal.
He held my gaze for a long moment, intensity almost unbearable. Then he smiled faintly, a slow, dangerous curl of his lips that made my stomach tighten. "There's something about you." he said, low and deliberate. "I don't know why this is happening."
For the first time that night, I wondered if the danger he carried was more than in his smile, his scent, or the way his body seemed to command the air around him. It was something deeper, something inhuman, something that made it impossible to step away.
The night felt suspended. My hands tingled where our fingers intertwined. His eyes held mine in a way that erased everything else, everything mundane and ordinary. I had been pulled toward him from the start, drawn into something I did not fully understand, and now, standing here, it was impossible to deny.
I shifted slightly, feeling the cool metal of the railing under my palm. My heart raced, but a strange calm settled in my chest too. The pull between us wasn't just magnetic, it was all-consuming.