Chapter 3

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"Are you alright, miss? I saw him drag you here and you looked pretty drunk, so I grew worried..." A smooth and polite voice; one that sent shivers down her body though not the unwelcome kind.

The newcomer glanced at the dead Lorenzo on the ground.

"You know me...?" asked Lily, secretly releasing her grip on the revolver; it was no longer needed.

There was a smile mingled in his tone. "Do I need to know someone to help them? The world would come to an end if that was the case."

Her world had already come to an end, long ago. This must've been why.

She closely stared at him. The darkness didn't allow her to pinpoint his features but she could see he was tall and lean. His stance was sophisticated and exuded an abnormal amount of confidence.

He had managed to swiftly deal with Lorenzo. And his tone, so far, did not betray any hint of anxiety or trepidation at what he just did.

In her experience, normal people tended to be a little fussy about people dying, more so committing murder, for some reason.

But he didn't seem to be affected. Either the situation still did not sink in for him - which she didn't think was the case - or...

Swift as a bullet, she made up another plan.

Killing with a borrowed knife was better in her current situation... that is if the borrowed knife didn't turn out to be blunt.

"I-Is he dead? He was seen with me last, what if this gets out and... and..." her voice was shaky as if the thought of what would follow took a great toll on her.

"No need to worry about that." He gave an indifferent shrug. "Rest assured, I will take care of it. For now, please follow me out."

As they slowly walked out of this isolated place and towards lit-up streets, he kept a cautious amount of distance between them.

Trying to make her feel safe, perhaps? She experienced a traumatizing event just now, after all.

(Or so it seemed.)

... but why make the effort? Was he planning on giving it his shot as well, later on? Trying to lower her guard so he can jump on her when she least expected it?

She took out her phone from her purse and sent Selene a text before keeping it away.

They were back on the streets by now. The bar she had gone to was in front of her. She turned herself to finally get a clear look at him.

... And all words got stuck in her throat for the second time this night.

On second thought, maybe she wouldn't mind if he tried giving his shot. Gladly welcome him, even. It felt like those terrible fairy tales fed to children where the curse was lifted and a handsome Prince was there at their call.

(Though she was pretty sure this one had an ulterior motive.)

The lights shone on his face, accentuating his high cheekbones. A spray of light freckles powdered his nose; a galaxy of stars waiting to be explored. Tendrils of his dark hair wove in and out of one another resembling the waves on a turbulent sea. They overflowed out of the crest of his head and she wondered if they would feel as soft as they looked were she to delve her fingers into those silky strands.

His eyes were like the fog on a winding road, blurring her vision and mysteriously muddling her sense of direction. Its mahogany shade was calming, yet the ruthless glint in them warmed up her blood, making her lightheaded. She was trapped in the tantalizing danger they promised as if she was on drugs.

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