Lily clicked her heels against the pavement, her mind a whirl of frustration and exhaustion after another long day at the office. The dim streetlights flickered as she hurried through the quiet streets, the cool breeze tugging at her loose curls. The city was alive, but this part of it felt oddly deserted—just her and the distant hum of traffic.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. She was too tired to deal with anything tonight. She just wanted to get home, kick off her shoes, and melt into the couch.
"Hey, pretty thing! Where you headed?" a voice suddenly called from behind.
Lily rolled her eyes, her pace quickening. She'd been catcalled enough in her life to know better than to engage.
But they weren't done. Another voice chimed in. "Don't be shy, sweetheart. Come say hello."
Lily stopped in her tracks, her patience wearing thin. She turned around to face them, her eyes narrowing. "Why don't you take your creepy comments and shove them where the sun doesn't shine?"
There were three of them, standing in the alleyway entrance. They exchanged glances and laughed, clearly entertained by her defiance. The tallest one stepped forward, his smirk growing wider. "Feisty. I like that."
He reached out, his fingers brushing her arm. Lily jerked away, heart pounding, but she didn't back down. "Touch me again, and you'll regret it."
"Oh, will I?" The man's hand hovered over her again, this time more aggressive, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a blur of movement sliced through the dim light.
A fist connected with the man's face, sending him staggering backward. Another punch followed, swift and brutal. The other two guys barely had time to react before the stranger was on them, fists flying with deadly accuracy.
Lily's breath caught in her throat as she watched. The man—whoever he was—moved like a force of nature, taking them down one by one without uttering a single word. His movements were controlled, almost too precise, as if this kind of violence was second nature to him.
In less than a minute, all three men lay on the ground, groaning in pain. The stranger stood over them, his chest rising and falling in calm, measured breaths.
Lily's eyes widened as she took him in. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black, his face partially hidden in the shadows, but what she could see left her breathless. Sharp jawline, intense eyes that seemed to flicker with something dangerous, something dark. He wasn't the typical "knight in shining armor." He was… something else. Something raw.
"Th-thank you," Lily managed to say, though her voice was shaky. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her usual confidence. "I mean, I could've handled it, but... thanks for the assist."
He didn't respond. Just stared at her, his dark eyes unreadable, making her feel exposed under his gaze.
"Well, this has been fun," she continued, trying to shake off the awkwardness. "But I should get going. It's late."
She turned to walk away, but before she could take more than a step, she felt his hand on her wrist. It wasn't forceful, but it was firm enough to stop her in her tracks.
"Wait," he said, his voice low, almost too soft for someone who had just beaten up three men without breaking a sweat.
Lily turned back, her heart racing for reasons she couldn't quite explain. She looked down at his hand on her wrist and then back up into his eyes. "What?" she asked, her tone still playful despite the unease bubbling inside her.
"Do you know who I am?" His question caught her off guard, sending a chill down her spine.
Lily blinked, her brow furrowing. She looked at him more closely, studying his features in the dim light, but nothing came to mind. "Should I?" she asked, genuinely perplexed.
He let out a quiet breath, his expression unreadable, as if he were deciding whether or not to say more. His fingers loosened around her wrist, but he didn't let go entirely. Instead, his thumb gently brushed against her skin, sending a shiver through her.
"You will," he finally said, his voice even lower now, almost a whisper.
Lily raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "You're being all mysterious. Do you do this often? Save girls and leave them guessing?" she teased, trying to lighten the mood.
He didn't smile. Didn't even blink. "Go on a date with me," he said, his voice so calm, so sure, that it left no room for argument.
Lily's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as she processed his words. "Wait, what?"
"One date," he repeated, stepping closer. "And you'll know who I am."
Lily let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Seriously? You beat up a bunch of creeps and now you're asking me out? Is this your usual post-fight routine?"
The corners of his lips twitched, but it wasn't quite a smile. "You'll find out."
She stared at him, her mind racing. There was something about him—something familiar, but distant, as if she'd once known him in another lifetime. But no matter how hard she tried to place him, she couldn't.
Lily bit her lip, curiosity tugging at her. "Alright, Mr. Mysterious. One date. But I'm not promising anything beyond that."
He finally released her wrist, his eyes still locked on hers. "Tomorrow night. I'll find you."
Before she could respond, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving her standing there, her heart still racing, her mind spinning with questions.
As she walked home, her thoughts kept circling back to the stranger. His eyes. His voice. And the strange, unsettling feeling that she had met him before.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't figure out who he was.