Lu leaned against the wall, the dim neon lights casting eerie shadows across his face as he tried to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. The muffled thumping of the bass was still audible from the main room, though more distant now. The hallway stretched on in both directions, yet he felt cornered—trapped between the instinct to leave and the pressure to stay.
He could just slip out, head back to his dorm where everything was quiet and predictable. What was the point of being here anyway? It wasn't his scene. The flashing lights, the pulsating beats, the tangled bodies moving in sync—it all felt so far removed from who he was. But then there was Delilah. Even if it hurt to watch her with Tony, part of him didn't want to leave her behind. Maybe if he stayed, he could find a way to enjoy the night, to loosen up, to fit in.
But what's the point if you're just watching from the sidelines? a voice in his head whispered. They've already forgotten about you.
He exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of his indecision bear down on him. Should I stay? Try to force myself to have fun? His thoughts spiraled in on themselves, each answer leading only to more uncertainty.
Then, a voice cut through his internal struggle, low and smooth, like honey dripping over his frazzled nerves.
"Oh, darling," it said, wrapping itself around him like velvet. "Are you okay?"
Startled, Lu looked up and saw her. She leaned casually against the bar at the end of the hallway, her presence commanding attention with effortless grace. Her gaze was sharp, eyes glinting beneath the neon lights, and her lips curved in a knowing smile. Her voice . . . it was unlike anything he had ever heard—smooth and melodic, each word she spoke tinged with a sultry warmth.
Lu's gaze traveled up to the girl hovering over him, her figure a blend of youth and allure, a portrait of captivating charm. Her light skin contrasted sharply with her raven-black hair, which fell in soft waves around her shoulders, framing her delicate features. She exuded a youthful vitality, yet there was an unmistakable hint of sophistication in the way she carried herself.
Her lips, painted in a deep shade of crimson, curled into a sly smile, suggesting an inner confidence that bordered on manipulation. There was a seductive quality to her smile, as if she knew exactly the effect it had on those around her.
The girl wore a fitted outfit that accentuated her curves, each movement deliberate and fluid, drawing attention without effort. The way she leaned against the wall was nonchalant yet purposeful, commanding the space while inviting curiosity and intrigue.
As she stood there, exuding charm and confidence, Lu couldn't shake the feeling that she was both captivating and dangerous—an enchantress in a world full of distractions. It was clear that her appearance belied a shrewdness, an understanding of how to play the game of attraction, keeping others at her mercy while maintaining an air of innocent allure.
The way she said "darling" felt personal, like they shared some private understanding, as though her words were meant only for him. It was intimate, almost conspiratorial, the kind of voice that made a simple question feel like the whisper of a secret shared between lovers.
She tilted her head slightly, her smile deepening as she waited for his response. "You seem . . . lost," she added, her tone rhythmic and persuasive, drawing him in further with each syllable. The cadence of her words had a magnetic pull, laced with a teasing edge that both intrigued and unnerved him.
For a moment, Lu forgot where he was, his internal conflict slipping away as he focused on her. The way her voice carried a quiet confidence, the way it made him feel seen—even in his disarray—was disarming. There was something about her that made his pulse quicken, though not in the way Delilah did. This was different.
