I never thought I’d be the type to give in so easily. But there I was, on the last train home, the clock slipping past midnight. The carriage was almost empty except for him — tall, dark jacket, eyes that lingered on me a little too long.

At first, I told myself it was harmless. A smile. A glance. A spark. But by the time we stepped off at the same stop, the air between us was electric. He asked if I wanted to walk. I said yes.

I don’t remember how his hand found mine, or how quickly we ended up tangled in the shadows of a quiet street. I just remember the way midnight swallowed us whole — and how, for once, I didn’t hold back.

Some nights rewrite who you are. This was mine.

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