“Anna!” a deep voice hissed.

I shivered, my body cold as if someone slipped an ice cube down my back.

I held my breath, listening for his footsteps. All I heard was the soft pad of his socks as each foot hit the floor.

“I know you’re in here somewhere, love.” his British accent was thick, words slurred yet gentle.

I exhaled after locking my bedroom door, then glanced at my clock.

2:46AM

I dialed 119 on my phone, shaking fingers tapping on the screen.

Then there he was.

Before my brain could register the open door and my phone—now in this stranger’s hands—I stared at him.

He had a defined jawline, with tan, honey-colored skin. His waves of dark brown hair hung just over his electric blue eyes, so soft and full I resisted the urge to run my fingers through them. A wet, cotton black T-shirt stuck to his muscled body like a second skin, and I tore my gaze from his hard abdomen before reaching his soft, bright eyes.

“W-Who are you?” I forced the words to escape my dry, cracked lips, and I licked at them as if it would help me find my sanity.

This man just went through a solid, oak locked door. Not to mention, there wasn’t a single cut, bruise or flaw that was visible.

His lips curled in a wicked grin.

“Don’t play games with me, Anna.” he murmured, his voice suddenly deep and husky. He craned his neck so his gaze was level to mine, and my breathing hitched. Something about his eyes was familiar... But where?

“Why are you here?” I asked, my words stronger than before. I tried to build confidence, curling my hands into defensive fists, but my entire body was shaking with fear.

The stranger’s smile fell. His eyes darkened, becoming dull and lifeless as if I told him someone had died.

“119 what’s your emergency?”

The man pressed the red button with his thumb easily at the sound of the operator’s voice, and my heart dropped to my stomach.

“I can smell the fear coming off you... Your heart’s racing...” He leaned over me, frame towering over me like a large shadow.

“P-Please don’t kill me...” I gasped, trying to figure out what to do. Should I run to the kitchen and grab a knife? Take my phone back?

But this stranger broke into my apartment complex without anyone noticing, broke down my door, and found me as if he was there with me the entire time.

Something told me that if he wanted to kill me, he would have already.

His strong, yet gentle fingers ran over my cheek, and it was until he pulled away his wet thumb that I realized I was crying. I flinched away from his warm, comforting touch.

I sniffled, hating how weak I sounded.

“What did you do to me?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes. My hands gripped my hoodie’s fabric tightly, something I generally did when I was having a panic attack.

Fuck...

I clawed at my chest as if it would help my lungs receive oxygen, but pain erupted inside my chest as I tried to breathe.

The stranger didn’t flinch. He didn’t move when I started screaming when he folded me in his arms. And he didn’t say a single word when I started crying, gasping for breath.

I felt this warm, honey-golden liquid slide through my veins like pure euphoria. I felt my emotions washed away, and I took in a deep breath, inhaling the soft smell of cologne and a hint of mint.

I turned to the stranger, shifting my body in his grasp so I could face him.

“We’ve met before... haven’t we?”

— • —

Next Update :

After (part II)

04.15.2021