The streets were alive with people heading to restaurants, bars, and shops, but Henry felt like he existed in another world. His phone buzzed with the details of his first delivery-an address he had been to before. Without delay, he grabbed his helmet, slipped on his work jacket, and mounted the delivery bike.

The hum of the engine under him was familiar, a constant in his otherwise unpredictable world. Riding through the streets, he found solace in the routine of his work. He wasn't chasing fun or friendships like others his age; he was chasing stability, trying to piece together the life he wanted.

After navigating through a few winding streets, he arrived at his first stop-a small apartment building. He parked the bike and carried the food up the steps, each creak of the stairs echoing through the narrow hallway. Reaching the door, he knocked, waiting for the customer to answer.

A middle-aged man greeted him with a nod and took the food without much conversation. Henry politely thanked him, handed over the receipt, and left for the next delivery. The night continued like this-short interactions, brief exchanges, and the monotony of moving from place to place.

At one point, while waiting at a traffic light, Henry found himself staring at a group of university students laughing and talking as they entered a lively café. He couldn't help but wonder what it was like to have time to relax, to socialize without the pressure hanging over him. But as the light turned green, he pushed the thought aside and focused on his next destination.

By the time his shift ended, it was past midnight. His body ached from hours of riding, and his eyes were heavy from exhaustion, but there was a sense of satisfaction that came with knowing he had earned enough to make it through another day.
It was late, and the streets were empty. Henry walked alone, his thoughts drifting, tired from the long day. Out of nowhere, a sudden force slammed into him. Before he could react, a strong hand grabbed him, flipping his body and pinning him hard against the cold wall of a dark alley. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes locked with a pair of unfamiliar ones-sharp, intense, and filled with a cold, dangerous edge. He was around Henry's age.

Henry's mind went blank, his heart pounding in his chest from sheer terror. He tried to push the man away, but before he could even utter a word, the stranger clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shh." The guy brought his face closer, his eyes flashing with a silent threat. They were filled with something so dark and terrifying that Henry felt paralyzed. His heart raced uncontrollably.

There were voices-loud and fast-approaching. Footsteps echoed down the street, growing nearer.

"W-what..." Henry's muffled words barely made it past the guy's hand. But the stranger pressed his palm tighter over Henry's mouth, his breath hot against Henry's skin. "Quiet," the guy whispered, his voice low and commanding, his gaze piercing through Henry's fear.

Henry's wide eyes scanned the guy's face. Blood streaked across his cheek, but even with the violence etched on his skin, his handsomeness was undeniable-almost unreal. Henry had never seen someone like him before, or perhaps he'd never noticed anyone so closely.
The man was tall, his body solid and unyielding, pinning Henry effortlessly against the wall. A tattoo peeked from the collar of his shirt, winding up his neck, a silent reminder of the danger this man carried with him.

"Look over here. If you find him, kill him!" The voices were now dangerously close, just around the corner.

Fear gripped Henry's chest, his hands shaking as they went from weakly pushing against the man to clutching onto his clothes for dear life. The threat of violence was real, and Henry was terrified. He wasn't built for this-he'd always feared violence, and had always tried to avoid danger. Now, it was right here, pressing against him, holding him hostage in the dead of night.

Henry's heart was pounding so fiercely that it felt like it might explode. His gaze was fixed on the stranger's beautiful blue eyes, so deep and captivating that Henry felt as if he were drowning in them. Everything around him faded, his mind consumed by the intensity of the moment.

Suddenly, the man's hand slipped away from Henry's mouth, and in the next instant, something soft pressed against his lips. The stranger kissed him.

Henry's eyes widened in shock, his entire body freezing as his mind struggled to catch up. His heart seemed to stop in that moment, leaving him breathless and still. He couldn't process what was happening, and then he heard them-footsteps. A group of men carrying guns appeared at the corner of the alley.

"Don't move if you want to live," the stranger whispered, his words brushing against Henry's lips.

Henry's eyes fluttered closed, his fear momentarily dulled by the kiss. He didn't even realize it, but the stranger's touch had a calming effect on him.

The chaotic thoughts in his head quieted, and before he could make sense of it, he found himself responding to the kiss, his body acting on instinct, sinking into the unexpected softness of the moment.

Henry felt as if he were in the safest place in the world, even though danger lurked just inches away. Despite the looming threat, there was a strange sense of closeness, a peculiar feeling of peace that wrapped around him. He had completely lost himself in that moment, in the warmth of the stranger's touch.

But then, like a snap, everything changed. The stranger abruptly pulled away. Henry's eyes flew open, and he was met with a different look in those blue eyes-not cold or threatening like before, but something else, something softer, almost conflicted.

Henry's breath returned in short gasps as he felt the once-strong grip on him loosening, the warmth fading. His mind raced to catch up with what had just happened, but before he could even process it, the stranger turned his back and began to walk away.

A sleek black car suddenly screeched to a halt at the end of the alley. The man got in without a word, and in a matter of seconds, the car sped off, disappearing into the night. The stranger was gone, vanishing from Henry's sight as if he had never been there at all.

Henry's legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the ground, his back pressing against the cold wall for support.

His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale feeling like it barely reached his lungs.

His chest tightened, and the world around him spun as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

The kiss. The danger. The stranger.

It all blurred together in a haze of fear and confusion, leaving him shaken to the core.
He pressed a trembling hand to his lips, still warm from the stranger's touch, but his mind was a whirlwind of emotions he couldn't even begin to untangle.

For a moment, all Henry could do was sit there, hunched over on the cold, empty street, struggling to breathe.

The next day, Henry found himself in a quiet corner of the library, seated at his usual small window table. His textbooks and notes were spread out before him, but his concentration wavered. He stared blankly at the words on the page, unable to focus. His mind drifted back to the last night, replaying every moment.

Absentmindedly, his fingers traced over his lips, the sensation from the stranger's kiss still lingering as if it had branded itself into his memory. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling-the warmth, the sudden closeness, the terror mixed with unexpected calm. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and now it seemed impossible to forget.

His heart fluttered at the thought, though he quickly shoved it down. He needed to focus, needed to bury himself in his studies, but the distraction was overwhelming. That kiss had stirred something in him, something he wasn't sure how to handle.

Suddenly, Sofia burst into the room, running toward him, her voice bursting with excitement.
"Henry... Oh my God! I got it!"

"Shh! We're in the library," Henry muttered, lifting his glasses with his index finger before shushing her with the same hand. He shot a glance at the person standing behind Sofia-a tall, handsome guy. Henry couldn't recall his name, but something about him seemed familiar. Maybe Sofia had shown him a picture of this guy before.

But Sofia was too excited to care about being quiet. "You won't believe it! I just got an invitation to Diois's birthday party!" She practically glowed with excitement, as if she'd just won the lottery.

Henry, however, was unmoved. He raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Diois? Who's that?" he blurted out, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop himself.

The guy behind Sofia chuckled in disbelief.

Sofia immediately covered Henry's mouth, glaring at him. "Damn it, Henry! I've told you about him a million times!" she complained, clearly frustrated.

Henry pushed her hand away, meeting her gaze with calm indifference. "So? What am I supposed to do with that? He's not the president of our country, the head of our university, or even a celebrity."