[ CH.TWO , HE'S A CHARMER' ] :

Jack's smile deepened, slow and deliberate, like he'd already won a game she didn't realize she was playing. He didn't reply right away; instead, he let the moment linger, his eyes locked on hers, dark and predatory. Then, with a low hum of approval, he leaned back, his hand brushing hers as if to remind her he was already inside her space, inside her skin.

"I thought you'd never ask," he murmured, his voice dripping with something between promise and threat.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of heat and wine and whispered tension, their words weaving a taut thread of connection that stretched further with every passing second. By the time they left the restaurant, Lilith couldn't quite tell who was leading whom. The air outside was sticky and electric, the kind of air that promised a storm, and every step they took toward her apartment felt heavy, inevitable, as though the night itself were conspiring to pull them closer.

When they reached her building, Jack stood behind her as she unlocked the door, his breath warm against her neck. She could feel the heat of him, the weight of his presence pressing into her back like a second shadow.

The door clicked shut behind them, but the air between them felt anything but closed. Lilith turned, her hand still on the doorknob, watching as Jack stepped further into the dimly lit apartment. He moved like a predator, deliberate and slow, each step filling the room with his presence. He didn't look around; he didn't need to. His eyes were on her, and hers alone, sharp and unrelenting, as though he could strip her bare with just a glance.

"You've got a nice place," he said, his voice low and smooth, but the words hung in the air like smoke—hollow, almost irrelevant. His gaze lingered on her lips, her throat, then dipped lower, his expression shifting from amused to something darker, more dangerous. "But I think we both know it's not why I'm here."

Lilith swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. She wanted to say something sharp, something dismissive, but the weight of him—the way he filled the space, the way his voice seemed to crawl under her skin—made her words catch in her throat. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the door as if she could keep herself grounded. "And why are you here, Jack?" she asked, her voice steady, even if she didn't feel it.

He smiled then, slow and deliberate, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You invited me, didn't you?" he murmured, stepping closer, his hands sliding into his pockets with a casualness that felt like a challenge. "You wanted me here"

Lilith tilted her head, her lips twitching into a smirk that she didn't quite feel. "You've got a real high opinion of yourself," she said, her tone sharp, but her body betrayed her. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and her breath came faster, the tension between them coiling tight like a spring.

He stopped just short of her, his body close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the stale air of the room. His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "Confidence isn't the same as arrogance," he said softly, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "But maybe you're just not used to someone who knows what they want."

"And what is it you want?" she challenged, her voice breathier than she intended, her skin burning where his fingers had touched.

Jack's smile widened, his eyes dark and unreadable. "You," he said simply, the word hanging between them like a promise. "But not just any version of you. The real you. The part of you that you keep locked up behind all those sharp words and walls. The part that wants to be seen— really seen."

Lilith stared at him, her heart thundering in her chest. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at her, that made her feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet utterly alive. "You don't know me like that," she said, her voice trembling slightly, the defiance in her words undercut by the way her body leaned toward him, as though drawn by a force she couldn't resist.

He tilted his head, his gaze softening just enough to make her breath hitch. "Maybe not," he admitted. "But I know what I see right now." His hand moved to her waist, his fingers curling around her as he pulled her closer, their bodies almost touching. "And I know what I feel."

Her breath caught as his words settled over her, warm and heavy. She could feel the tension crackling between them, the magnetic pull that made it impossible to think, impossible to do anything but let him close the gap between them. "Jack..." she began, but whatever she was going to say was lost as his mouth met hers, the kiss slow and deliberate, like he was savoring her, tasting her.

It wasn't hurried or frantic, but there was a weight to it, a depth that left her trembling. His hands moved over her body, mapping her curves with a reverence that made her skin burn. He kissed her like he was trying to consume her, to pull her into him and keep her there, and she let him, her own hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

When he finally pulled back, his breath hot against her lips, she was trembling, her body humming with the need for more. "You're dangerous," she whispered, her voice unsteady, her hands still gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

Jack smirked, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "And you love it," he murmured, his voice thick with promise. "But don't worry, Lilith. I know exactly how to handle you."

Before she could respond, he kissed her again, this time deeper, more insistent. His hands slid to her thighs, lifting her easily as he carried her to the bedroom. She clung to him, her lips never leaving his, her body alive with a fire she hadn't felt in years.

When he laid her down on the bed, his weight pressing into her, she felt like she was being consumed, devoured by the intensity of him. His touch was firm but gentle, his movements deliberate, as though he was savoring every inch of her, every gasp and shiver and moan.

The night stretched out before them, a tangled mess of limbs and whispers and heat. He unraveled her slowly, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but raw, unfiltered need. He was relentless, his touch searing, his kisses leaving trails of fire across her skin. And when they finally came together, it was like an explosion, a release of all the tension and hunger and desire that had been building between them.

They moved together like two animals, wild and unrestrained, their bodies colliding in a rhythm that felt primal, instinctive. It wasn't soft or sweet—it was raw, untamed, and consuming, a battle for dominance that left them both breathless and trembling.

When it was over, they lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths mingling in the quiet darkness. Lilith stared at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, her mind spinning with the weight of what had just happened.

Jack's hand rested on her hip, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin." Well, I'm gonna take a shower you can leave if you want, you guys usually do" Jack's hand paused mid-motion, his fingers stilling against the soft curve of her hip as he watched her rise from the bed. The air in the room shifted, cooling as the heat of their entanglement began to fade. Lilith's tone was casual, almost flippant, but it was the kind of nonchalance that felt practiced, calculated—a shield hastily thrown up to cover whatever rawness lingered underneath.

She stretched her arms above her head, the faint outline of her spine visible beneath the dim light filtering through the curtains. "Bathroom's down the hall," she added, more to herself than to him, as she padded across the room toward the door. "Or you can just head out. Either way."

Jack stayed where he was, propped on one elbow, his dark eyes following her every move. He didn't speak immediately, letting the silence hang heavy between them, like the ghost of the moment they'd just shared. The sheets still clung to the heat of their bodies, the room carrying the faint scent of sweat, wine, and something that felt strangely like regret.

"Is that what you think of me?" he finally said, his voice low, smooth, but tinged with something she couldn't quite place. "That I'm just like every other guy?"

Lilith paused at the doorway, one hand on the frame, her back to him. She turned her head slightly, just enough for him to catch the faint curve of her profile. Her hair hung loose, a curtain shielding most of her face. "I don't think anything," she said, her tone clipped, carefully neutral. "I've just learned not to expect much."

Jack pushed himself up from the bed, the sheet slipping down his torso as he moved, exposing the tattoos that wound up his chest like creeping vines. He swung his legs over the edge and stood, his movements slow, deliberate. "You don't strike me as the kind of woman who doesn't expect much," he said, his voice steady but his gaze sharp, piercing through her defenses like a blade.

Lilith turned fully to face him now, her expression carefully composed, though her arms crossed over her chest in a way that felt more protective than casual. "And what kind of woman do you think I am?" she asked, her voice steady, almost challenging.

Jack stepped closer, the space between them shrinking with every step. He stopped just short of her, his eyes locking onto hers. "The kind who puts up walls," he said, his voice soft but firm. "The kind who acts like she doesn't care because it's easier than admitting she does." His gaze flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes. "The kind who's afraid to let anyone stay." This observant fucka' she thought to herself

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, she looked as though she might argue, might spit something sharp and cutting back at him. But instead, she laughed—a dry, humorless sound that barely reached her eyes. "You think you've got me all figured out, huh?" she said, shaking her head. "You don't know a damn thing about me."

Jack tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You keep saying that as if I don't see you, doll face," he admitted. He reached out then, his fingers brushing against her arm, light and tentative. "And I know when someone's trying to push me away."

Lilith stared at him, her expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something fragile, fleeting, gone before she could acknowledge it. She pulled away from his touch, stepping back into the doorway. "Look," she said, her voice softer now, less sure. "This was... whatever it was. But I'm not looking for anything. I'm not..." She trailed off, her throat tightening around the words she couldn't quite say.

Jack studied her for a moment, his gaze steady, unwavering. Then he nodded, a faint, almost imperceptible motion. "Fair enough," he said, his voice calm, even. He stepped back, giving her space, though the weight of his presence lingered in the air between them. "But just so you know," he added, his voice dropping slightly, "I'm not like the others " I'm worse.

Lilith blinked, her lips parting slightly as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, she turned and disappeared down the hall, the sound of the bathroom door closing behind her echoing through the apartment.

Jack stood there for a moment, his eyes on the empty doorway. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair, before gathering his clothes from the floor. As he dressed, his movements were slow, deliberate, he was studying her apartment taking in every single detail.

When Lilith stepped out of the shower, the bathroom filled with steam and the faint scent of her soap, the apartment was quiet. For a moment, she thought he'd left, just like she'd expected. But then she saw the faint glint of something on the table by the door—a note, scrawled in bold, confident handwriting:

"You're not getting rid of me that easily. - Jack"

Lilith stared at it for a long moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't know whether to be annoyed or intrigued—or maybe a little of both. But as she folded the note and slipped it into her pocket, she realized she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to get rid of him after all.

࿇

The next morning, the harsh light of day cut through Lilith's apartment, washing over the cluttered space with an unflinching clarity that made the events of the previous night feel both vivid and distant. She sat at her kitchen table, nursing a mug of coffee that had long since gone lukewarm, staring blankly at the typewriter on the desk across the room. The note Jack had left sat folded neatly beside her mug, its presence both grounding and irritating. She hadn't decided yet how she felt about him—about the heat he'd brought into her world and the way he'd left her feeling raw, exposed.

The loud knock on the door startled her, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She sighed, already knowing who it was before she even stood up. Only one person in her life had the audacity to bang like that without warning.

"Open up, Lily! I know you're in there!" Gaia's voice rang through the thin walls, chipper and insistent.

Lilith rolled her eyes, dragging herself to the door and swinging it open. Gaia breezed in without waiting for an invitation, wearing oversized sunglasses and a red halter top that screamed hangover chic. She carried a greasy paper bag that already smelled like it was leaking through, and her energy filled the apartment like an uninvited storm.

"Good morning to you too," Lilith muttered, closing the door and locking it behind her.

Gaia peeled off her sunglasses, her sharp eyes immediately scanning the room like a detective surveying a crime scene. "Well?" she demanded, dropping the bag onto the table and pulling up a chair. "How'd it go?"

Lilith sighed, leaning against the counter. "How'd what go?"

"Oh, don't give me that," Gaia said, narrowing her eyes. "Your date, obviously. Chez Noir, remember? The tall, dark, and handsome guy I handpicked for you out of the goodness of my heart? The one you were whining about having no time to prepare for?"

Lilith hesitated, unsure how much she wanted to divulge. She took a long sip of her coffee, letting the silence stretch just long enough to get on Gaia's nerves.

Gaia groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. "Come on! Don't leave me hanging. Was he a dud? Did he ghost?"

Lilith shrugged "I fucked him"

Gaia froze mid-motion, her head snapping upright so quickly that her sunglasses fell off the table. Her jaw dropped, her eyes wide as though she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly. "You *what*?" she practically screeched, leaning forward like Lilith had just dropped a bombshell—which, in a way, she had.

Lilith shrugged again, playing it off as though it were the most mundane thing in the world. She picked up her coffee mug, took another sip, and set it down with an air of calm that only seemed to rile Gaia up more. "You heard me. I fucked him," she repeated, her tone flat but her lips twitching, betraying the slightest hint of amusement at Gaia's reaction.

Gaia gasped, her hands flying to her chest as if clutching imaginary pearls. "Lilith Eloise Maddox!" she cried, full of theatrical indignation. "You cannot just drop that on me without any context! What happened? How did it happen? Was it good? Wait, of course it was good—you wouldn't look this smug if it wasn't."

"I'm not smug," Lilith said, though her tone lacked conviction.

"Oh, you're smug," Gaia countered, narrowing her eyes as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Don't think I don't see that little sparkle in your eye. You're practically glowing you slut." She paused, then leaned forward again, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "So, spill. Was he worth it?"

Lilith sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she leaned against the counter. "It wasn't just good, okay? It was... intense," she admitted, her voice quieter now, as though the admission cost her something. "The kind of intense that leaves you awake at three in the morning, staring at the ceiling and wondering what the hell just happened."

Gaia's eyes widened, a slow grin spreading across her face. "Oh, my God," she breathed. "He broke you, didn't he? You got the good, dangerous kind of dick. I can tell."

"Jesus, Gaia." Lilith rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the flush creeping up her neck. "You're unbelievable."

"And you're predictable," Gaia shot back, waving her hand dismissively. "I told you he was perfect for you, didn't I? Mysterious, sexy, probably a little bad news—exactly your type. What's his name again? Jacksyn, right?"

"Yeah," Lilith said, her tone guarded now. She moved to the sink, rinsing out her coffee mug to avoid meeting Gaia's eyes.

Gaia tilted her head, sensing the shift in mood. "Uh-oh," she said, her grin fading slightly. "What's with that tone? Did he say something weird? Do something sketchy?"

Lilith shook her head, though her hand tightened around the mug. "No, nothing like that. He was... smooth, you know? Like, too smooth. The kind of guy who's got secrets, the kind you can feel even when he's being charming."

Gaia's eyebrows shot up, her curiosity clearly piqued. "Secrets, huh? Like what? Did he let something slip?"

"Not really," Lilith admitted, turning to lean against the sink. "But he had this energy about him. Like, the way he talked, the way he looked at me... it was like he already knew more about me than he should. Like he was holding back, but only because he wanted me to ask." She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. "It felt... off."

Gaia let out a low whistle, sitting back in her chair. "Damn," she said, clearly impressed. "Sounds like he might actually be too much for you to handle."

Lilith smirked, pushing off the counter. "Please. I can handle him just fine."

"Oh, I know you can," Gaia said, grinning again. "But the real question is... do you want to?" She gestured toward the note on the table. "Because something tells me he's not just going to disappear like the rest of them."

Lilith glanced at the note, her expression unreadable. "Yeah," she said after a moment, her voice quieter now. "I don't think he is."

Gaia tilted her head, studying Lilith with an intensity that felt almost invasive. "And how do you feel about that?" she asked, her voice unusually soft, as though she'd stumbled onto something fragile.

Lilith shrugged, but it was the kind of shrug that didn't reach her shoulders, her body too tense to pull it off. "I don't know," she said, her eyes flicking back to the note. "It's not like I'm used to guys sticking around. It's easier when they don't."

Gaia snorted, leaning forward to prop her elbows on the table. "Easier doesn't mean better, Lily," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "Maybe that's the problem. You've been letting these losers slide out of your life because they're not worth the effort, but this guy?" She gestured dramatically toward the note again. "Jack doesn't sound like he's planning to slide anywhere."

Lilith picked up the note, unfolding it again even though she'd already memorized every word. The handwriting was bold, confident, just like him. You're not getting rid of me that easily. She ran her thumb over the edge of the paper, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing," she said quietly, more to herself than to Gaia.

Gaia rolled her eyes, sitting up straight. "Oh, please. Don't even start with the whole I don't deserve good things speech. You're not a tragic heroine in some melodrama, Lilith. You're allowed to want something real, something messy, something that doesn't let you control every damn outcome."

Lilith shot her a look, but Gaia didn't back down. "What if it's not real?" Lilith countered, her voice sharp now, defensive. "What if he's just playing some game, and I'm the idiot who falls for it?"

Gaia leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she regarded her friend. "And what if he's not?" she said simply. "What if he's actually worth the risk?"

Lilith opened her mouth to argue, but the words didn't come. Instead, she sighed and dropped the note onto the table, rubbing her temples like the conversation had physically drained her. "I don't know, Gaia," she muttered. "The guy's practically dripping with red flags. He's too smooth, too intense. I mean, who leaves a note like that after one night?"

"Someone who knows what they want," Gaia replied without missing a beat. "And clearly, what he wants is you."

Lilith stared at her, her expression torn between irritation and grudging acceptance. "You're not helping," she said flatly.

"I'm not trying to help," Gaia shot back, standing and grabbing the greasy bag off the table. "I'm trying to get you to pull your head out of your ass long enough to see that maybe—maybe—this guy could be good for you. Or at least interesting."

She pulled out a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich and shoved it into Lilith's hands. "Eat something. You look like you spent the night overthinking instead of sleeping."

Lilith huffed but unwrapped the sandwich, taking a begrudging bite. Gaia grinned triumphantly, settling back into her chair with her own sandwich. "So," Gaia said through a mouthful of egg, "what are you going to do?"

Lilith chewed slowly, thinking. The truth was, she had no idea. Jack was a puzzle she wasn't sure she wanted to solve, a storm she wasn't sure she wanted to weather. But there was a pull there, something magnetic and undeniable, and she wasn't sure she could ignore it even if she wanted to.

"I'll figure it out," she said finally, her voice quiet but resolute. "I always do."

Gaia snorted again, shaking her head. "That's code for I'm going to wait for him to make the next move."

Lilith rolled her eyes. "Maybe."

Gaia grinned, reaching across the table to steal a piece of bacon from Lilith's sandwich. "Well, you better hope his next move involves more of that intensity you were talking about. Sounds like you could use it."

Lilith swatted her hand away, but she couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You're impossible."

"And you're an idiot," Gaia shot back, her grin widening. "But I'm rooting for you anyway."