Rain tapped softly against the windows of your apartment as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, wiping mascara from beneath your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.
Another date that started with promise and ended with disappointment.
At this point it almost felt laughable. Your friends called it bad luck. Your mother called it poor taste in men. You called it exhausting.
You had spent years trying to make yourself easier to love.
Softer voice. Smaller opinions. Less emotional. More patient. More forgiving.
One cheated on you with your coworker. One forgot your birthday three years in a row. One left halfway through dinner because his ex texted him.
After enough heartbreak, you stopped expecting good things from people.
Still, loneliness had a way of creeping in during quiet nights.
You tossed your ruined makeup wipe into the trash and shuffled toward the kitchen, flicking on the small lamp above the sink. The apartment glowed warm amber against the storm outside.
Then the lights flickered.
Once, twice, you frowned.
“Please do not die on me tonight.”
A knock sounded at your door.
Another knock. Slower this time.
Your stomach twisted as you moved carefully toward the door, checking the peephole.
A tall man stood in the hallway.
The overhead light buzzed strangely above him.
You hesitated before cracking the door open slightly.
The stranger lifted his head.
He was handsome in a way that almost hurt to look at. Harsh features softened only slightly by tired eyes. A scar cut across his face, pale against tan skin. Blond lashes shadowed eyes so dark they looked nearly black in the dim hall.
“You dropped this downstairs.”
His voice was deep and rough like gravel dragged across velvet.
Your eyes widened. “Oh my God.”
You snatched it from him, immediately checking inside. Everything was still there.
“You could've taken the cash.”
“Aye.” One corner of his mouth twitched. “Could've.”
You laughed quietly despite yourself.
The name settled strangely in your chest.
His gaze lingered on you for half a second too long. Not in a creepy way. More like he was trying to memorize you.
Then the hallway light above him burst with a sharp pop.
Simon did not even blink.
“Sorry,” you muttered nervously. “This building is falling apart.”
Another silence settled between you, oddly comfortable despite the fact you had never met this man before.
You noticed rain soaking the shoulders of his black jacket.
“You can come in for a minute if you want,” you said before thinking too hard about it. “Until the storm calms down.”
His expression changed slightly.
The second Simon crossed your doorway, the warmth in the apartment seemed to shift.
Like the air itself had thickened.
He removed his gloves carefully, revealing scarred hands and silver rings. Your gaze snagged briefly on one oddly shaped ring that looked ancient compared to the others.
“You live alone?” he asked quietly.
His eyes flicked around the apartment before settling back on you.
“You should get a better lock.”
You laughed nervously. “You sound like my dad.”
You made tea mostly to keep your hands busy. Simon stood near the kitchen counter, massive compared to your tiny apartment. Somehow he looked completely natural there, like he belonged in shadows and dim light.
“You always rescue strangers during storms?” he asked.
“No. Usually I make objectively terrible choices with men.”
That earned a low hum from him.
The words spilled easier than expected.
Maybe because Simon listened instead of waiting for his turn to talk.
You told him about the cheating, the lying, the way every relationship somehow left you feeling lonelier than before.
“You start wondering if maybe something's wrong with you after a while,” you admitted softly.
“There’s nothing wrong with you.”
The certainty in his voice startled you.
“You don't even know me.”
Rain thundered harder outside.
For a moment neither of you spoke.
Then Simon looked toward your window sharply.
Like he heard something you couldn't.
“You expecting anyone tonight?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
A cold shiver crawled across your skin.
Then came three knocks at the apartment door.
You frowned. “Who the hell…”
Simon was already moving.
One second he stood beside the counter. The next he was near the door.
He glanced through the peephole and his expression darkened into something genuinely frightening.
The deep tone in his voice left no room for argument.
Your pulse hammered as Simon unlocked the door and stepped into the hallway, pulling it nearly shut behind him.
You heard muffled voices.
You crept closer before the door opened again.
Simon stepped back inside calmly, shutting the door behind him.
There was blood on his knuckles.
“Drunk bastard had the wrong apartment.”
Something about the explanation felt thin.
Still, Simon looked completely unbothered.
Not adrenaline high, bot angry, just cold controlled.
He noticed your expression and sighed softly.
Every instinct said something about this man was dangerous beyond reason.
But beneath all of that danger was something else.
Something lonely, something aching.
“No,” you answered honestly.
Simon stared at you like the word physically hurt him.
“You should be careful saying things like that.”
His eyes met yours fully then.
Dark, endless, not human.
The lights flickered again violently.
For one impossible second you saw something behind him.
A shadow stretching too large across the wall.
Two massive horns curling upward.
Golden eyes glowing from darkness.
Simon closed his eyes briefly like he knew exactly what you saw.
The apartment suddenly felt too small.
“What…” Your voice trembled. “What are you?”
Rain hammered the windows.
“No.” His gaze lowered to the floor. “It's the safer one.”
Any sane person would have.
But instead you whispered, “You brought back my wallet.”
Simon looked almost amused by that.
“Your standards are low, sweetheart.”
A quiet sound escaped him. Not quite a laugh. Not quite sadness.
Then he stepped closer carefully, like approaching a frightened animal.
“You keep picking people who hurt you because part of you thinks that's all you deserve.”
Your chest tightened painfully.
“How would you know that?”
“Because creatures like me can smell loneliness.”
Your heart raced but Simon remained perfectly still.
“I haven't lied to you,” he continued softly. “I just haven't told you everything.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
His expression immediately hardened with something fierce.
The answer came so fast it felt instinctive.
Your breath caught again.
Simon lifted one scarred hand slowly toward your face, giving you every chance to pull away.
When his fingers brushed your cheek, warmth spread through your skin despite the storm around you.
“You're the first good thing I've wanted in a very long time,” he murmured.
His thumb traced beneath your eye gently.
“And that's dangerous for someone like me.”
You should have pushed him away.
Instead you leaned into his touch.
Because for the first time in your entire life, someone looked at you like you were precious instead of temporary.
And somewhere deep beneath Simon Riley’s frightening smile and impossible shadows, something ancient and monstrous had already decided you belonged to him.
