The darkness of the night danced with the flickering city lights as Scharline descended the stairs of the metro station. The sound of her heels striking the metal steps echoed through the station’s empty corridors. The air was cold, but the way her skirt and thin white top fluttered against her skin only heightened the shiver spreading
Her tight-fitting white blouse, stopping just at her waist, hugged her figure with every step, revealing the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. The delicate fabric subtly traced her body’s curves. The loosely tied, light-colored skirt swayed as she walked, exposing the smooth lines of her legs. A slight breeze slipped through the opening of her skirt, leaving a tingling sensation on her skin.
The station was crowded. People moved shoulder to shoulder in a rush to get somewhere, paying no attention to anyone around them. In this chaos, she felt almost invisible. Yet, it didn’t take long for her to sense a gaze lingering on her.
She felt a pressure between her shoulders, like a predator watching its prey… But she didn’t turn around immediately. She didn’t want to give anything away. Instead, she glanced at her reflection in the glass.
And there he was.
The man behind her…
He wore a dark hoodie, his face hidden in the shadows, but his eyes…
His eyes were locked on hers through the glass’s reflection.
That cold, piercing gaze… There was an undefined intent lurking within. His stare didn’t waver, remaining fixed on her. In that moment, Scharline knew—he was focused solely on her.
And then, she felt it.
At first, she hadn’t noticed. It was so light… Like a feather. But still, it was undeniably a touch. A deliberate one. He wanted her to notice.
The man had brushed his fingertips ever so lightly against the hem of her skirt. Maybe he had been caught up in the way the fabric moved, but no… This wasn’t an accident.
A tingling shiver ran through her body, setting off her instincts. A restless unease spread inside her. Someone was intruding on her space in the midst of this crowd. But the most unsettling part was how openly and confidently he was doing it.
Scharline turned slightly.
The man’s eyes were still on her.
Despite the noise, despite the constant motion around them, it was as if a thin, invisible thread had been drawn between them. Was his stare a warning, or was this all just a game?
Scharline did not step away. She held her ground.
At the next stop, she would have to decide: Get off and escape? Or stay in the game and see how far it would go?
Her breath quickened. She felt trapped. Pinned within the mass of people, she had nowhere to move. Her fingers tightened around the metal handrail, her knuckles turning slightly white.
But the man kept moving.
His touch… was now undeniable.
It was intentional.
First, a light graze, then a weight… And now, as if he was trying to guide her body toward him…
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
She thought about running. But how?
There was no space.
And then…
He leaned in.
His breath spread across her skin like a ghostly warmth.
And in a whisper…
“Put your hands up.”
Scharline’s eyes widened.
His voice…
Low, soft, but carrying an undeniable command.
It was a suggestion laced with a veiled threat.
She looked at her reflection in the glass… The only thing visible beneath the hood’s shadow was his gaze, locked onto her.
He was waiting.
He wanted to see her reaction.
And for the first time, Scharline truly felt trapped.
She took a shaky breath, then slowly raised her hands. The man’s gaze darkened at the movement. Her body was now fully exposed to his presence.
He grew bolder. He stepped closer. His warm breath touched the curve of her neck, making her shudder involuntarily. His fingers skimmed over the waistband of her skirt, his touch almost possessive.
Scharline’s mind was screaming, but her body remained still. They had become shadows within the crowd, unnoticed. To an outsider, everything was normal, yet inside, a storm was raging.
The man leaned in, whispering with a faint trace of amusement:
“What stop are you getting off at?”
Scharline’s breath hitched.
There was a hidden meaning behind the question. Was there an escape? Or was she meant to stay in the game?
She swallowed, then whispered her stop.
His fingers played with the waistband of her skirt before trailing down, slow and deliberate. His touch was cautious, yet unmistakably intentional.
A shiver ran through her. She closed her eyes for a moment, holding her breath. No one noticed them in the crowd, yet the tension in this moment seeped into her bones.
The man smirked, his fingers ghosting over her curves as her breathing became uneven. Her heart was racing, and with every second, she felt his control tightening around her.
He whispered, his voice teasing yet resolute:
“The place we’re going… will be known only to you.”
Scharline hesitated, torn between instincts and curiosity. But she realized—her body was betraying her. As the metro began to slow down, his grip on her waist became more assertive.
When the doors opened, for a fleeting moment, she thought about running. But the certainty in his gaze made her doubt her decision.
She couldn’t even remember the station’s name anymore. The only thing that mattered was how this game would end. His touch had grown more defined. His fingertips explored the contours of her body as Scharline’s breath came in short, uneven bursts. Her will was wavering, but the storm inside her had not yet settled.
The man drew closer, whispering, “Do you know where we’re going once we get off?”
Scharline cast a quick glance around. The metro was nearly at a stop. It was time to decide. But this wasn’t just about choosing a direction.
The metro halted, the doors opening with a soft chime. Scharline took a sharp breath and stepped out without hesitation. The night air was cool against her skin, but the tension inside her remained unrelenting. Behind her, the man had also stepped off. His footsteps were careful, maintaining a deliberate distance.
She walked, her heart pounding. His presence was unmistakable, even in the crowd. After a moment, she turned back slightly; his eyes hadn’t left her, not for a second. Was this a chase? Or was it still a game?
She bit her lip and kept walking. As she neared the street corner, she knew she had to make a choice. Keep moving forward and see where this led? Or stop and confront him?
She walked a little further, her breath quickening, her mind tangled in uncertainty. She could hear his footsteps, feel his presence behind her. But then, suddenly, she noticed something—several police officers patrolling the area. A wave of relief washed over her. The tension in her body eased slightly, and she quickened her pace.
When she glanced back again, the man was gone.
A cold chill ran through her. Had this been a game? Or had he really disappeared?
Forgetting the fear and the strange thrill of it wouldn’t be easy, but for now, the most important thing was getting away. Her pulse still racing, she hurried out of the metro station and took a deep breath as she stepped into the cool night air.
