Ash looked in the mirror, trying to fix something in his appearance. He stared at his reflection as his fingers ran through his wet hair. It was the third time, and the whole thing was starting to feel uneasy. Not because he didn't look good enough — at least, that's what he told himself. The reason was different. He didn't like this at all. Going on a date always felt like this for him. There was something hollow in his chest tonight, and no matter what, he couldn't shake the feeling.
The bathroom was dimly lit that night, casting sharp shadows across his face. The tension was almost tangible. His white shirt was slightly wrinkled, carelessly buttoned, offering a glimpse of his bare chest — just enough to give him a tempting aura. It hadn't even started yet, but he already felt over it. The thought lingered in his mind as he grabbed his jacket and slammed the door behind him harder than necessary.
It was a distraction. As soon as he stepped outside, he decided to light a cigarette. There was something about inhaling the smoke that calmed him down. He didn't do this often. It was only for occasions like this.
The city outside was restless, neon lights flashing too brightly, almost hurting his eyes. People hurried past, occasionally stepping around Ash as he made his way to the place. His date was waiting at some bar whose name he'd barely bothered to remember — something pretentious, probably. When he arrived, the place was exactly what he expected: dull lights creating a heavy atmosphere, overpriced drinks, fancy tables. Everything was perfect — except his mind.
His date, of course, was attractive and played her part well. She tried to impress him with a smile and small gestures. Ash didn't have to say much; the girl did the talking for him. As he took a sip of his drink — nothing special, just plain whisky, the more expensive kind — he found himself nodding, pretending to care about her story while his mind drifted elsewhere. He couldn't remember any of it, and tried to figure out what was wrong. Maybe it wasn't her fault. She did everything she could. Ash needed too much. The conversation died a slow, awkward death.
Later, he found himself outside again. The cold wind sweeping under his canvas coat sent a shiver down his spine. He wasn't a fan of the cold, and his hands were almost bright red from it. Ash couldn't decide whether he was annoyed at the date, the world, or himself.
I need one more, he thought, even though he hadn't smoked in years. Today was already his second.
He walked slowly back to his apartment, his steps heavy on the cold ground. He decided to stop for a moment. His breathing was rapid, as usual.
A soft sigh escaped his lips.
And that's when he saw him.
Leaning against the wall of a small place about to close stood Lucian.
A tall man with a cigarette lazily dangling between his fingers. He had sharp features, as if carved from stone, with dark hair dimly lit by the city lights. When Ash looked at him, he felt a strange ease. There was some unspoken difference that made Ash's chest tighten in a way no date ever had. Their eyes met long enough to size each other up. He didn't smile, didn't look away either. He wanted to speak with him — it felt like the most important thing at that moment. And before he knew it, Ash headed toward him.
"Got another one?" he asked, pointing at the cigarette in Lucian's hand. His voice sounded unfamiliar to him.
Lucian reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack with a careless motion. He looked at Ash. Lucian's eyes were dark, cold but mesmerizing. A slight arch of his brow as he handed out a cigarette without a word.
Ash lit it and started coughing a little. Damn, it was stronger than he was used to.
Lucian smirked.
"What's funny?" Ash snapped, raising his eyebrows.
"You don't look like the smoking type. Is it too strong for you?"
Ash exhaled slowly. What an asshole, he thought.
"Don't worry about that. I'm full of surprises."
"Yeah, I can see that. Should we go somewhere else?" Lucian said playfully, his deep voice low and confident.
The whole thing happened too fast, without any good reason. There was something magnetic between them. At first, it was just talking. Lucian was way too confident, fully aware of the effect he usually had on people. But Ash was different. Despite his attractive appearance, he was unaware of such things. The flirting was natural between them. Every sentence screamed, Come and catch me if you can.
Ash moved first, closing the distance without thinking. Lucian didn't stop him.
The kiss wasn't soft at all. It was passionate, rough. Nothing gentle. Lucian moved his hands to pull Ash closer while Ash gripped his jacket so hard he almost tore it. The tension was unbearable.
When they pulled apart for a moment, Ash was breathless. He was shocked by what had just happened. He had never felt like this before — not even close. And yet Lucian made him weak, angry, and unsure.
Ash looked at him. His lips were slightly swollen.
"I guess I was right. Full of surprises," Lucian said, a lazy smirk on his face.
Ash didn't know what to say. He couldn't think straight.
This man is dangerous, he thought. It was the only thing that stuck in his mind.