unspoken scars

"Damn! What the hell have I gotten myself into? What stupid decisions led me to get into a vehicle with three guys?" Eight hours earlier... My life had slipped into a dull haze, each day blending into the next with an unsettling sameness. I craved a fracture in the routine a glimpse into a world I didn't understand. On a restless impulse, I opened a dating app, hoping the unknown might finally reach out to me. I took my time filling in the details of age, interests, a sprinkle of mystery and picked my best photos: me in that emerald green gown, curls cascading like I actually woke up like that one laughing mid-shot with a soft filter because duh, personality and a selfie with just enough makeup to scream effortless but don't try me. Then the swiping began. Left. Left. God, no left. Hmm... maybe. Right. Ugh. Definitely left. It felt like shopping for attention, and I wasn't even sure I wanted to buy it. I barely looked at most of the profiles. They all blurred together gym selfies, corny quotes, way too many filters, or worse… sunglasses indoors like they were hiding from responsibilities. Then my phone buzzed. "Hello, beautiful." The message just sat there at the top of the chat window, bold and unexpected. I opened it. The profile picture was... mysterious. Dim lighting, half his face hidden under a hoodie, and a slight smirk. His eyes were dark intense in a way that was giving low key creepy, but also... there was something bold about it. Like he wasn't trying too hard. I stared at it for a second longer than I meant to, then typed back: "Hey." A few seconds passed. "You've got the kind of smile that could shut people up in a room." I blinked. Okay… that was unexpected. A bit dramatic, surebut not bad. Better than the usual "Hey sexy" or "WYD." "Lol. That's new. What's your name?"I typed. "Damion." "Cool. I'm Mira." "Mira,"* he replied almost instantly. *"I like that." "Thank you." Then came the one that made my pulse skip: "Can I see a picture of this pretty lady?" His words had this teasing edge, just enough to stir something in my chest. I smirked, feeling bold, and sent him a few of my sexiest photos curves on full display, lips parted just right, each shot a quiet promise. Then I added a few videos slow, deliberate movements that even made my skin tingle. Silent confessions, just for him. "Your turn," I typed, my eyes glinting with mischief. He replied with one photo. Low light, shadows swallowing most of his face… but those dark eyes burned with a kind of hunger that made something twist low in my stomach. "Not much for pictures," he said. "But I'm all about real, raw moments." That line made me pause, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. "So, what are you looking for on here?" I asked. "Honestly? I'm just bored out of my mind. Wanted to try something different." "Hmmmm… same here." A small smile tugged at my lips. "Let's be bored together then," I typed. The conversation moved fast after that. Damion was witty, confident, and just the right amount of flirty enough to hold my attention without feeling like too much. We talked about movies, music, and how it had been raining so much in Los Angeles lately. He sent voice notes too his voice deep, calm, the kind that settled into your skin and lingered. I caught myself laughing more than I had in days. And just like that, the night unraveled. Our messages spilled into late nights whispered desires, secret fantasies painted in words, dirty jokes that made my cheeks flush. We bared pieces of ourselves no one else had touched. Curiosity bloomed into craving. Craving into comfort. Laughter and trust that bordered on addiction. Weeks passed, and the connection only twisted tighter. Best friends? Maybe. Something more? Definitely. So when he finally said, "Let's meet,"it didn't feel sudden. It felt inevitable. ********** His voice was rough when he called. "Where are you?" My pulse jumped. "Almost there," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "The driver says you should come down." After we hung up, I shot him a quick text: "The driver said my bill is 20 dollars." His reply came almost instantly. "Pay it!" Short. Sharp. Cold. I blinked at the screen, confused. He was the one who invited me. He'd booked the ride. So why was he suddenly asking me to cover it? Still, I typed: "Ok." Unsure, but not wanting to ruin the vibe. The car slowed in front of a quiet apartment complex, tucked between palm trees and an old auto shop. I stepped out, adjusting my top, smoothing my jeans, heart pounding like I was walking into something I couldn't name. Then I saw him. He stepped outside, walking casually toward me and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. He was cute. Like… *really* cute. Slightly chubby in the most adorable way, long dark hair tied into a messy bun, small round eyes flickering with mischief. His chest was broad under a white T-shirt that clung to him in all the right places. Grey joggers hung low on his waist, paired with black slide sandals effortless, relaxed. Confident. And that smirk… "Are you Mira?" he asked, smiling as he approached. Butterflies detonated in my stomach. 'Damn, this guy is cute. I'm already falling for him,' I whispered to myself. "Yes," I said, breath catching. "I'm Mira. You're Damion, right?" He nodded, and for a moment, we just stood there two people who had already undressed each other in words, now facing the reality of skin and air, the distance finally gone. I couldn't shake the feeling, this was only the beginning of something thrilling, or something dangerous. Maybe both. "Welcome," he said smoothly, his voice lower now that we were face-to-face. "I wanted to see you before I left Los Angeles. I couldn't leave without meeting the woman I've been talking to all this time." That made my chest flutter. He explained he was currently working in San Diego and had come to Los Angeles for just a short project only a few days. He made it sound casual, but his eyes never left mine. We walked into his small apartment, fingers intertwined. The place was tiny but clean, minimalist, one couch, one TV, a kitchen sink full of dishes. There was a faint smell men's cologne mixed with old pizza. It felt lived in, not staged. He offered me a drink, but I declined. As we settled in, we started talking about our families. Damion told me he was one of seven siblings, only two boys including himself. I smiled, imagining the chaos, the noise, the teasing. When I asked if he was the favorite, he laughed. Then his expression shifted, softer, more serious. "Mira," he said, eyes locking onto mine, "once I'm done with this project, I swear I'll marry you." I blinked, stunned. We'd only just met, but something in the way he said it—not a joke, not a line made my heart skip. It felt… dangerous to believe. But it also felt good. And that feeling was winning. I laughed nervously, brushing a curl behind my ear. "You don't even know what I'm like in real life yet." He tilted his head. "I've been talking to you for weeks. That's real enough." I didn't know what to say to that. We talked more and laughed. He teased me about my accent, and I teased him about his chipped phone screen and the way he kept adjusting his joggers like he was nervous too. Time passed easily. Too easily. Then the shift happened. He stood and stretched, his shirt lifting just enough to reveal soft skin and a small tattoo near his ribs something I couldn't quite make out. "Let's sit on the bed," he said, offering me his hand. I hesitated. He noticed. "You don't have to be scared. I'm not gonna do anything you're not comfortable with." I nodded slowly and followed him in. We sat on the bed, closer than before. The air thickened between us. The conversation faded, replaced by silence and stolen glances. Then he said it. "I've thought about you. A lot." I looked at him. "You're not like other girls I've met. You're soft, but sharp. Chill, but bold. And I don't know… I feel like I already trust you." Something inside me softened and tensed at the same time. I didn't know how to handle those words the kind that sounded like they were meant for a deeper version of me, one I wasn't sure I'd shown yet. He leaned closer. His hand brushed my thigh. "Is this okay?" he asked. I nodded, but my body tensed. He kissed me softly at first, then deeper. His hand slid up, tracing the line of my waist. I kissed him back, but somewhere inside, my instincts started whispering, 'Too fast. Too soon.' He pulled back slightly. "Are you sure?" I blinked, heart pounding. "I don't know," I whispered. He studied me for a moment, then leaned back with a sigh. "Okay. We can chill." And just like that, the heat cooled. He put on some music slow, vibey and we sat there in silence, side by side, shoulders touching, hearts loud in our own chests. I didn't know if I trusted him. But I wanted to. And that was the problem. We started again, we drifted from small talk to deeper things flirtation, laughter, confessions that felt fragile but intimate, like we were building something invisible between us. Something you couldn't see, but could feel. Four hours slipped by. Just like that. And then… silence. He just stared at me. That look pure heat, hunger pinned me where I sat. My mouth went dry. I stood up to leave, suddenly aware of how close the walls felt. The room had grown smaller, like it was breathing along with us, tense and tight with everything we weren't saying. His eyes tracked me. Slow. Sharp. Calculating. Like he was memorizing every move I made, every tremble in my hands, every breath that gave away my excitement… and fear. "You're leaving?" His voice was low, rough, almost a growl, with something darker coiled beneath it. "Yes… I should go," I whispered. My legs were unsteady, but some stubborn spark inside me pushed forward needing to reclaim control, to remind myself I could leave. That this wasn't a dream I had to fall helplessly into. But the way he was watching me… It made me wonder if I was already too deep. Just as I reached for the door, his hand shot out, grabbing mine with sudden force. Before I could react, his lips crashed onto mine hard, urgent, and full of something that made my breath catch. The wall hit my back a second later cold and unforgiving while his body pressed close, trapping me. His breath mingled with mine, hot against my cheek as he lowered his voice, every word vibrating against my skin. "Mira, seriously? You're leaving already? You just got here." His hand slipped under my shirt, fingers exploring too carelessly, too boldly. My heart kicked part fear, part something darker, something I didn't want to name. I caught his hands, gripping them tight. My voice shook, but I met his eyes without blinking. "Stop. You promised you'd be patient… until I'm ready." The change in his face was instant. That smile God, that smile twisted into something dangerous. Not playful anymore. Predatory. And yet… my skin tingled, my breath still shallow. "Remember this, Mira," he whispered, closing the space between us until all I could breathe was him. "I don't make promises lightly. I told you I'd wait... but patience has limits. Test me, and you'll regret it." My heartbeat roared in my ears, loud and panicked, even as he finally pulled back, just enough to let the air in again. The tension hung between us like a spark waiting to catch fire. Sorry, Damion, but please… just wait. Not yet." I ducked, sliding out from under his arm, heart racing, needing space, needing out. "Fine. You can leave. But once you step out that door, I swear, I'll block your number and delete it. Gone. You'll disappear from my world." His voice was cold, final, like a door slamming shut inside my chest. I froze. His words cut deeper than the night air outside, stabbing into me with brutal precision. "Aren't you going to see me off?" I asked, my voice was smaller than I wanted it to be. "You know I don't know anyone or anywhere here." "I don't care. Get the f**k out of my house." Then he shoved me hard toward the door. The air outside hit me like a slap. Cold. Real. My mind spun, still trying to process the shift from flirty laughter to this… this ugly goodbye. Everything about the visit suddenly felt like a mistake. One thought burned into me, sharp and terrifying, 'He could break me. And he wouldn't even hesitate.' I stood there alone, heart pounding, reality sinking in like ice. No money for a ride back. I'd assumed foolishly that he'd either pay the taxi fare or at least walk me out. Make it right somehow. I didn't know how wrong I was. My phone was dead silent. No missed calls. No messages. I couldn't call my sister not after this. She'd lose it. And then… just as I took my first shaky step away from the house, the sky cracked open. Rain poured down, cold and merciless. Like the universe was laughing in my face. Rain slammed down in thick sheets, drenching me instantly cold, heavy, unforgiving. I stood there, alone in the storm, not a single shelter in sight. No comforting voice on the other end of my phone. No money for a cab. No idea where I was or where I could even go. The city blurred around me just dark, wet shadows swallowing the streets. The rain clung to my skin like a thousand invisible hands, pressing down, watching, judging… waiting. And in that moment, it hit me sharp and terrifying. My life could flip in a single heartbeat. One wrong choice. One man. Damion had just reminded me how powerless I could feel. How easily someone could break me and walk away untouched. This wasn't over. The game had started. And neither of us would walk away unscathed.