Thirst

I AM DRAWN TO YOU

Juanita took the service stairs all the way to the top of the building, pushing open the heavy metal door to the rooftop. The contrast was instant. The biting, freezing London air rushed over her skin, instantly clearing some of the fog in her brain. The sky above was dark and clear, dotted with a few faint stars. Below her, the distant bass of the party thumped rhythmically through the concrete, but up here, it was peaceful.

Juanita walked to the edge of the stone ledge, wrapping her red cloak tightly around her shoulders. She leaned against the brick, closing her eyes and taking in a deep, cleansing breath, free of sweat and alcohol.

Then, the air shifted. The temperature plummeted.

She didn't even flinch this time. She simply opened her eyes and turned around.

As expected, Samil was standing near the rooftop door, his hands thrust into his pockets, the wind whipping his dark hair across his forehead.

Juanita let out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms. "Are you a stalker? Seriously, should I be concerned? Because I have mace in my bag, Samil, and I'm drunk enough to use it."

Samil didn't say a word. He stepped away from the door, approaching her with slow, measured steps. The harsh light of the moon caught his face, stripping away the angry facade he had worn at the bar. He stopped just a few feet away, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. His gaze lingered on the blood-red velvet of her dress, then drifted up to the silver-and-red locket resting against her collarbone.

When his eyes finally met hers, the coldness was entirely gone. They were soft, filled with a sudden, devastating adoration that made Juanita’s heart stop.

"You're beautiful," he said simply.

The sheer vulnerability in his voice disoriented her more than the alcohol. She stuttered, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find her words. She let out a weak, defensive scoff.

"What... what the f**k do you want, Samil? You can't be rude to me, ignore me, tell me to leave you alone, and then the next second you're f*****g watching my every move, following me up to a roof, and telling me I'm beautiful. What is your goddamn deal?"

"You're drunk," he murmured, stepping closer. "I'm just looking out for you."

"Don't give me that bullshit," she snapped, her voice trembling despite her anger. "You don't care about me."

"I shouldn't," Samil whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he closed the remaining distance between them.

The proximity was dizzying. Juanita could feel the freezing aura radiating off him, but she couldn't move.

"I am a lot of things, Juanita. Dangerous things. I have spent every single day of the past month trying to stay away from you. Because being near me is a death sentence. But I can't." He reached out, his pale, cold fingers hovering just a fraction of an inch from her cheek. "I am drawn to you. And it's ruining me."

"I... I don't..." Juanita tried to dismiss him, to push him away, but her voice died in her throat. Her heart was beating so violently against her ribs it felt like a trapped bird.

"I know you feel it too," Samil said, his dark eyes dropping to her lips. He stepped into her space, completely erasing the boundary between them. Juanita didn't step back. Her heels hit the stone ledge of the roof. "Your pulse is up. Your heart is beating faster. You know exactly what this is."

Before she could form a coherent thought, Samil’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his cold chest. Juanita gasped, her hands instinctively flying up to grip his shoulders. They looked into each other's eyes under the moonlight, the gravity between them snapping completely.

Samil leaned down, she leaned forward and crashed her lips onto his.

The kiss was intense, passionate, and desperate, pent up, repressed emotions bubbling and erupting, melting them both.

It tasted like sweet wine, alcohol, grape and dangerous secrets. Juanita lost herself in it, arching her back, burying her fingers in his hair as the warmth of her body clashed with the freezing power of his.

And just then, a violent shockwave hit her. The silver-and-red locket against her neck suddenly flared with a brilliant, dark violet light.

Juanita’s eyes snapped open, but she wasn't on the roof anymore. Her body felt like it was being struck by lightning, her mind violently ripped backward into a terrifying trance.

The beautiful night vanished. In its place, she smelled thick, choking smoke. She was standing in a grand, burning ballroom. She saw a circle of five powerful figures, their hands glowing with raw magic. She saw a young boy with dark, terrified eyes crying tears of blood as he was dragged into a secret tunnel.

In the circle, a man with dark eyes stood over a bleeding couple on a gilded dais. He raised a glowing silver dagger, his face cold, ruthless, and murderous.

She knew him. He looked…

“D…dad?”

He cut off the neck of the man kneeling in one smooth stroke. Blood splattered.

"No!" Juanita gasped, her consciousness slamming back into her body.

She broke the kiss violently, panting for air, sweat dripping down her temples.

She looked at Samil, her eyes wide with pure, unadulterated horror. He was still holding her arms, his expression dark, guarded. Yet, beneath the darkness, a flicker of genuine panic crossed his face.

"Juanita?" he asked, his grip tightening slightly. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Down against her chest, the silver locket was still pulsing, casting a faint, sickening dark violet glow across her blood-red dress.

"I need to go," she whispered, her voice trembling so hard she could barely form the words. "I have to go. Let go of me."

She ripped her arms from his hold, terror rewriting every molecule of her being. She turned, desperate to run toward the rooftop door, to flee from him, from the nightmare she had just witnessed.

But as she took her first frantic step, the world tilted violently. The mix of the alcohol, the intense psychic shock, and the raw magic that had just detonated from her locket crushed her nervous system. Her knees buckled.

The roof spun into darkness. Before she could hit the cold concrete, her eyes rolled back, and Juanita slumped forward, completely passing out.