Ethan stood outside the café, staring at the dark wooden door in front of him. The place was tucked away in an alley so narrow that he had almost missed it. A single lantern hung by the door, casting a flickering glow that seemed to dance in rhythm with the nervous beat of his heart.
Why had he agreed to meet her again?
He told himself it was for closure, to put the strange night behind him once and for all. But that wasn't the truth. Deep down, he knew he was drawn to her—drawn to the danger she represented. The memory of her smile, the way her eyes seemed to pierce through him, lingered in his mind like a shadow he couldn't escape.
With a steadying breath, he pushed open the door. The café was small and dimly lit, filled with the smell of coffee and something sweet, though the atmosphere felt heavy, almost oppressive. In the corner, Lila sat at a table by the window, her back to him. Her posture was relaxed, as if she had been expecting him all along.
He approached slowly, every step weighed down by a sense of unease. She turned as he neared, and when their eyes met, her lips curved into that same enigmatic smile that had haunted his dreams.
"Ethan," she said softly, her voice like silk, smooth and inviting. "I'm glad you came."
He slid into the seat across from her, trying to mask the anxiety twisting in his gut. She looked the same—perfect, serene, and completely unfazed by everything that had happened between them. It was as though their first date, the eerie confessions, and the unsettling revelations didn't weigh on her at all. But Ethan couldn't forget.
He couldn't forget the strange fascination she had with death. The online forum. The secrets she seemed to hide behind those dark, captivating eyes.
"Lila," he began, his voice more steady than he expected. "There are things I need to understand."
She tilted her head, her expression one of gentle curiosity, as if she were waiting for him to continue unraveling the mystery for himself.
"I've been thinking about the things you said on our first date," Ethan continued. "About your… beliefs."
Her smile didn't falter, but her eyes darkened, just a fraction. "Oh?"
"You mentioned something about a group—about rituals, necromancy. And the forum," he added, leaning in slightly. "I looked into it. I saw what they talk about. What they claim they can do."
Lila leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, completely at ease. "People will say all sorts of things on the internet, Ethan. You shouldn't believe everything you read."
"I don't know what to believe," he admitted, feeling the tension building. "But you—you're not just someone who stumbled across that site. You're a leader, aren't you? You're deeply involved."
Her eyes sparkled with something he couldn't quite place—amusement, maybe? Or was it something darker? "You've been busy," she said, her tone light, almost teasing.
"I need to know the truth." He couldn't keep the urgency out of his voice. "Why are you involved with something like that? What is this group really about?"
For a moment, Lila was silent, her gaze lingering on him, as if she were assessing how much to reveal—or how much he could handle. Then she leaned forward, her expression softening in a way that both soothed and unsettled him.
"Ethan," she said, her voice low, intimate. "You're asking the wrong questions."
His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She reached across the table, her fingers brushing lightly against his hand. The contact sent a jolt through him, like an electric current running under his skin. "You're so focused on the 'what' and the 'why,' but those don't matter. What matters is what you're feeling right now. What's pulling you back here, despite everything."
He pulled his hand away, his pulse quickening. "I don't—"
"You're curious," she interrupted softly, her eyes locking onto his. "And curiosity can be dangerous."
Her words sent a shiver down his spine. There was a weight to them, a warning, but also something seductive. She was right—he was curious. He needed answers, but more than that, he was inexplicably drawn to her, to the darkness that seemed to cling to her like a second skin.
"I don't want to be part of whatever this is," Ethan said, though even as he spoke, he wasn't sure he believed it. "I just want to understand."
Lila's gaze softened, almost pitying. "Understanding comes at a price, Ethan. Are you willing to pay it?"
He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "What price?"
She didn't answer, not directly. Instead, she sat back, her smile fading into something more serious, more intense. "There are things in this world," she said slowly, "that most people will never know exist. Things that go beyond life and death, beyond what you think is possible. The group—my group—seeks that knowledge. We don't fear the dark. We embrace it."
Ethan felt the weight of her words settle over him, thick and suffocating. He had known, on some level, that Lila was involved in something dangerous, but hearing it spoken aloud like this made it real. Too real.
"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lila's eyes glittered with a strange intensity. "I don't want anything from you, Ethan. The question is, what do you want?"
He stared at her, his mind racing. What did he want? He had come here for answers, for closure, but now, sitting across from her, he wasn't sure anymore. There was a part of him—small but growing—that wanted to dive deeper, to understand the pull she had on him, the secrets she was hiding.
But there was also fear. A fear that if he went too far, he might not be able to come back.
Lila watched him closely, as if reading the conflict in his eyes. "You can walk away," she said softly. "I won't stop you. But you're here because you can't let go, Ethan. You're drawn to me, to the unknown."
He opened his mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn't come. She was right, and he hated that she knew it.
He could feel it—the tug, the pull of something beyond logic or reason. A magnetic force that connected them, something dark and dangerous but undeniably alluring.
Lila's smile returned, a small, knowing curve of her lips. "The choice is yours."
Ethan sat there, staring at her, the weight of her words pressing down on him. The café seemed to close in around him, the walls narrowing, the air growing thick. He could walk away, he told himself. He could leave right now, and maybe things would go back to normal.
But as he looked into her eyes, he knew—he wasn't going anywhere.
Not yet.