Lorien

You're walking down the street, bag in hand, your heart pounding with anticipation. Your boyfriend was waiting for you at the restaurant. Inside, everything felt like an ordinary evening: candles, a table by the window, soft music. You pretended to be calm about his words about an "open relationship," but deep down, something was stirring.

The phone vibrated. The name on the screen made my heart skip a beat: Lorien. You pressed "reply," trying not to show your excitement.

• Hello…

• Come to me, baby. I miss you.

• his voice is soft, confident and at the same time warm. You took a deep breath, trying to hold yourself together:

• Lorien... I'm with Alexey, I can't.

He grinned, his voice laced with insolence.

"Why do you need this poor guy? I'm much better than you. I'll be waiting for you in 20 minutes."

You felt your fingers tighten around the phone, your heart beating faster. Alexey's footsteps could be heard down the hallway. On the one hand, there was stability, familiar warmth; on the other, a dangerous attraction and tension that Lorien skillfully created with his voice.

“Don’t make me come for you,” he added quietly, like a whisper sliding over your skin.