SEXY SCANDAL

SEVEN

I was finally getting off from work, taking the same alleyway I use on my way home. It was late, but this had become a routine. I was already used to going home using this alleyway but this time felt … different.

I couldn’t shake of the feeling that I was being watched. Followed. Stalked. I knew too well of the dangers of being noticed. I wrapped my arms around myself, picking up my pace and instinctively trying to make my frame smaller. The night air bit at my skin, colder than usual, as though it carried warning in its chill. The alleyway, once a shortcut home, stretched before me like an endless, narrow tunnel.

I glanced over my shoulder for the third time. Nothing. Just brick walls, trash bins, and the distant hum of the city. Still, the shadows shifted oddly, like they were breathing. My heart thudded louder with every step, echoing in my ears like a war drum. I could have sworn I heard footsteps barely a second behind mine. I turned sharply. No one. But then… movement. A flicker near the corner.

I froze.

“Who’s there?” My voice trembled despite my effort to sound firm. The silence that answered wasn’t comforting. It was quick, charged. And then came the sound. Quick footsteps, soft but deliberate.

Closer.

My heart began to race. Each beat loud and thunderous in my chest. I wasn’t new to paranoia, but this was different. This was real. Something about tonight gnawed at my gut. I clutched my bag tighter, fingers delving inside for anything with a point. My hand met with a broken pen. Not exactly a weapon, but it was all I had. I gripped it like it was a dagger and walked faster.

Another shadow moved, closer this time. I spun around, breathe caught in my throat. I felt a rush of adrenaline up my spine. A shape stepped forward from the darkness, hands raised in surrender, a familiar lazy grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

Josh.

“Relax, it’s just me” he said, stepping into the dim glow of a streetlamp, his face finally visible. The relief hit me first like a wave, then the urge to slap him. “Josh! Are you insane?? I could’ve stabbed you!” I snapped, half breathless, half furious. “With what? That broken pen in your bag?” He chuckled, stepping closer, clearly amused.

I wanted to stay mad, but his presence however poorly timed, brought a strange sense of comfort. He looked jovial as ever, in his usual black hoodie, messy curls falling over his forehead, hands casually tucked into his pockets, a glint of mischief in his eyes that hadn’t changed since we were kids. His head was tilted slightly like he was trying not to smile too hard.

“I swear, you’re insane. You scared the hell out of me” I muttered, still catching my breath. He came closer, his voice lower this time, like he wasn’t sure if he should joke or apologize. “I texted you. Twice,” he said holding his phone up like proof. “I just thought I’d mess with you, maybe you’ll stop taking this way home. It’s too dangerous. You were speed-walking like a ninja on a mission”

My eyes narrowed, still not amused. “Mess with me? In a dark alleyway? Are you actually trying to die tonight? And besides, that was because I thought I was being followed. Which turns out, I was” he stepped closer, just enough to make my breath hitch, not from fear, but from the look in his eyes. It wasn’t just playful anymore. There was something quieter there. Focused.

He tilted his head, studying me the way someone studies a painting they’ve seen a hundred times but suddenly notice something new about. “Is this still a joke to you?” I mumbled, “No,” he replied, “…Not at all”

His gaze dropped to my hand, still clenched tight around my bag like a lifeline. Then back up, meeting my eyes like he could see through the layers I tried to hide behind. “You always walk the road like nothing could touch you,” he said, “But tonight… you looked over your shoulder four times. That’s not like you.”

I blinked. How did he notice that? “I pay attention,” he added, answering the question I hadn’t asked. “Especially to you” he teased. I narrowed my eyes, studying him. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles and the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You’re impossible.” I chuckled, stepping beside him. “Will you promise me to stop using this route at night? It’s dangerous.” His voice softened. I looked up at him, catching the genuine concern etched into his features, a shadow of worry he didn’t bother hiding.

I offered him a small smile, one I wasn’t sure reached my eyes. “Okay,” I whispered. “Only because you asked.” The tension in his shoulders eased, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward. He looked ahead, “I’ll walk you home, Sam”