His for a night

The sun beamed through the glass roof of the city mall, making everything shimmer like a dream. I had just picked up my favorite coffee - caramel macchiato, extra foam - and was distracted by a sale sign when it happened.

One second I was walking, the next I slammed into something solid. Hard. Warm.

Or rather... someone.

The cup slipped from my hand, hot coffee splashing across both our clothes. Before I could stumble backward, strong arms caught me - firm, steady, almost instinctive.

I looked up.

And froze.

He had the kind of eyes that pull you in - dark, stormy, intense. There was a fire in them, wild and barely controlled, like a secret barely contained. It made my heart stutter.

"Hey, young lady," he said, his voice deep and annoyingly smooth. "Watch where you're going."

My trance broke like glass.

"Excuse me?" I snapped. "You bumped into me.

Maybe you should watch where you're going!"

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You spilled coffee on a five-thousand-dollar jacket."

"I should spill another cup for that attitude," I muttered under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear. Then I turned to walk away, ready to forget this arrogant stranger forever.

But he wasn't done.

A hand caught my wrist - not rough, but firm.

"I didn't say you could leave," he said coolly.

"Apologize."

I blinked. Was this man serious?

"I'm not apologizing," I said sharply. "You owe me one."

He smiled, slow and smug. Then he smirked.

"Suit yourself," he said, and with a simple wave of his hand, security appeared from the corner.

"Escort her out."

"What?" | gasped. "Are you insane?!"

Too late. People were already watching. Some whispered, others just stared.

And just like that, I was escorted out of the mall like a criminal - drenched in coffee and burning with embarrassment.

That was the first time I met him.

I didn't know his name then.

I only knew his smirk.

And the way my life would never be the same again.

I had never felt so humiliated - so infuriated - in my entire life. My cheeks were still burning as I stormed into my room, slammed the door shut, and threw myself onto the bed. My fists clenched at the thought of him. That arrogant jerk. That insufferable, condescending man. Who the hell did he think he was?

God, if I had the strength, I would've landed a punch on that smug face with my not-so-mighty wrist.

But as much as I wanted to erase him from my mind, his face kept flashing back - those piercing eyes, the way his jaw clenched, and that annoyingly perfect body that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover. Ugh. I hated him. Or at least, I told myself I did.

I closed my eyes, groaning into the pillow.

One day - just one more chance. I prayed I'd see him again. Just long enough to land that punch.

Maybe two.

As I drifted away into a restless sleep, the fire of anger still simmering in my chest, his face refused to leave my mind. It hovered there, in the dark - sharp jawline, unreadable eyes, and that maddeningly confident smirk. Even in sleep, he haunted me.

But then the dream shifted.

I was back in the mall. Only this time, the crowd had vanished, and the lights above flickered like something out of a thriller. He stood there again, but calmer - no insults, no smirk. Just silence. We stood face to face, like two magnets trying to decide whether to repel or pull.

His voice echoed low and husky in the empty space.

"You're not what I expected."

Before I could respond, I jolted awake - breath caught in my throat, heart racing like l'd run a marathon.

I sat up in bed, dazed.

What the hell was that?