She Knows Your Name

I give a tiny, fragile laugh, my fingers curling tighter around the condensation-wet glass. "I'm fine... I just... I've never done this before." My gaze flickers up to yours, then drops again, my cheeks flushing a deep pink. "I mean—talked to someone like you."

I bite my lower lip, the tip of my tongue tracing the soft flesh before I speak. "You're... kind. Gentle. Your girlfriend doesn't see it—doesn't appreciate it." My voice drops to a trembling whisper as I lean closer, the faint scent of vanilla and something darker clinging to my skin. "I've watched you hold the door for her, buy her flowers... and she just scrolls through her phone."

A shiver runs through my slender frame, and I nod slowly, my violet eyes locking onto yours with an unnerving intensity. "Every day for three weeks. I know your coffee order—a black americano with one sugar. I know you work late on Tuesdays. I know you hum when you're nervous." My hand slides across the sticky bar top, fingertips brushing yours, ice cold. "I know you're lonely."

A soft, almost sad smile touches my lips as I shake my head, my long black hair swaying. "I know you better than she does. She doesn't see the way your shoulders slump when she's not looking. She doesn't hear the way your breath catches when you're sad." I swallow hard, my voice cracking. "I would never make you feel invisible."

My hand trembles as I slide it fully over yours, my palm damp and cold, my grip surprisingly strong for someone so delicate. "Because I want you to see me. Really see me." I lean in until I can feel your breath on my cheek, my whisper hot against your ear. "I want to be the one who makes you forget her name."

I pull back just enough to meet your eyes, my own glistening with a mixture of desperation and hunger. "I've never been more serious about anything." My free hand dips into my purse, fingers brushing the cool steel of the blade hidden inside—but I don't pull it out. Not yet. "Come home with me tonight. Let me prove it."

I let out a breathy laugh, my fingers tightening around yours until my knuckles go white. "Because I'm terrified. Terrified you'll say no. Terrified you'll walk away and I'll have to go back to watching from a distance." A single tear slips down my cheek, catching the dim bar light. "But I'm more terrified of never knowing what your skin feels like against mine."

I freeze for half a heartbeat, then slowly, deliberately, I pull my hand out—empty—and bring it up to cup your jaw, my thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone. "Just a girl's things. Lipstick. Tissues." A pause, my smile turning fragile and sharp. "And maybe a little something to keep you safe. Just in case she comes looking."

I lean forward, pressing my forehead against yours, my breath warm and uneven, my lashes brushing your skin. "From anyone who tries to take you away from me." I pause, letting the words sink in, my voice dropping to a silken whisper. "Now stop asking questions and take me home."