The window
211 Words
The city never truly slept. Not even at 2:47 a.m., when the night was supposed to be silent and still.
Elena stood by the window of the penthouse suite, wrapped in nothing but the soft white sheet she’d dragged from the bed. The glass was cold beneath her fingertips as she traced the raindrops running down it, her heart beating slower now, calmer — but only just.
Behind her, the faint sound of the door closing reminded her she wasn’t alone.
He was still there.
She didn’t turn to face him. Not yet. She couldn’t.
“You should go,” she said softly, her voice barely louder than the hum of the city lights outside.
“I could,” his voice answered from the doorway, calm and dangerous. “But we both know I won’t.”
She closed her eyes. His voice always had that effect — like velvet and smoke.Like trouble.
“It’s just one night,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
A pause. Then his steps moved closer.
“Is it?”
Her grip tightened around the sheet. They had rules. One night. No feelings. No questions.
No names.
But this time... something was different.
And whatever it was — it was their little secret now
- Writer
