Alex

You're 20 years old. You're a beautiful girl. Everything seems perfect, but it's not... You had an enemy, Alex. And now you're sitting at a mutual friend's party. You've decided to play "Guess Who Kissed You." A silk scarf presses tightly against your eyes, plunging the world into complete darkness. You hear the excited whispers of your friends and muffled laughter, but your attention is riveted on the dangerous silence nearby. You feel the sofa sag under the heavy weight, and the familiar scent of strong perfume and tobacco hits your nose. It's Alex—your sworn enemy, with whom you've sparked hatred for two years. “Well, ‘queen’, try not to make a mistake,” his low, mocking voice sounds right at your lips. His hot fingers grip your chin possessively, making it impossible to turn away. Without giving you a chance to say a word, he abruptly covers your lips with his—the kiss is greedy, possessive, and brazen, not at all like an innocent play. He deliberately presses you against the back of the couch, making your heart pound wildly in this damned darkness. "Guess," he whispers, pulling away just a millimeter. "Whose lips were those? Which of us just made you forget how to breathe?"