Everything in Anastasia's life was falling into place. She was months away from wrapping up her Crime Scene Investigation major, her grades were solid, and her relationship with Dylan? Steady. Predictable. Perfect. At least, that's what everyone thought. On campus, they were the golden couple. The power duo. The ones everyone envied.
Four years together, and she had never given him more than she was willing. And Dylan had always—well, mostly—respected that. He knew where she stood: she wanted to wait. Not because of some outdated moral compass, but because her first time was supposed to be with someone else. Someone who was ripped away from her too soon. Bastian. The guilt of moving on so quickly gnawed at her, but Dylan had been patient. Understanding. He filled the void, even if he could never quite replace what she lost.
But patience wears thin.
That evening, she returned to their shared apartment, expecting Dylan to be there so they could get ready for a party later. He wasn't a fan of big crowds, but he'd agreed to go. Probably because she had begged.
"Dylan?" she called, hanging up her coat. Silence.
She tossed her bag on the bed, only to be yanked back by strong hands wrapping around her waist. A gasp caught in her throat as a warm palm covered her mouth. She barely had time to react before hot lips crushed against hers.
A startled laugh bubbled up as her shirt buttons popped open under eager fingers. "Dylan, what the hell?" she giggled against his lips.
"I've been thinking about you all day," he murmured, his voice dripping with mischief. His hands slid lower, pressing her body flush against his. "I couldn't wait another second."
His kisses were fire, branding her skin as he backed her toward the bed. A shiver of excitement shot through her. This version of Dylan—unpredictable, desperate—was intoxicating. His mouth trailed down her neck, sending tingles down her spine. As they tumbled onto the mattress together, limbs intertwined, she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled his head back making him growl. Their kisses grew more heated, more desperate. Clothes were shed quickly as their bodies pressed together, skin on skin.
"I love you," he whispered against her skin, his lips trailing lower.
She let out a quiet gasp when she felt his warm breath on her inner thighs as he gently made his way down her body and slipped his head between her knees. His mouth touched her tender flesh, causing a tingling sensation throughout her body. Gently pulling him in, she stroked her fingers through his hair. He playfully traced leisurely around her with his eager tongue, making her wriggle in anticipation and finally letting out a low sigh of delight when he finally tasted her properly.
Wave after wave of blissful sensation washed over her as he explored her most intimate areas with passionate intensity. As she reached her peak, her body became a whirlwind of intense sensations that seemed to explode from within. Despite this, he continued to suck on her and drink in every last drop of her pleasure and once he was done, he crawled back to her and kissed her fervently letting her taste the juices that he just devoured.But then—
She stiffened.
He was there. She could feel his hard shaft touching her entrance. Just a little more and—
"Baby," she whispered, breath unsteady.
His eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw tight like he was in pain. "Just… let me stay here for a second."
His body trembled. So did hers. The sensation was unbearable. The line between control and surrender was razor-thin.
"Dyl. Stop."
The explosion was instant.
With a frustrated growl, Dylan yanked himself away, springing off the bed like she had burned him. His face twisted with an emotion she'd never seen before—rage.
"Why, Ana?" he snapped, pacing the room. "It's been four damn years! Four! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
She sat up, yanking the sheets over her body. "What's wrong with you? We talked about this. You said you understood."
"Your decision, Ana. Not mine." He let out a bitter laugh, raking a hand through his hair. "Fine. Let's get married tomorrow."
Her stomach dropped. "You're joking."
"No, I'm dead serious. That's the deal, right? Marriage first? Let's do it."
She gawked at him. "Dylan, we're not ready. You have years left in law school—"
"So what? I'm supposed to wait another five years for my own girlfriend?" His voice rose, filled with something unhinged, something desperate. "I've been patient, Ana. But I'm done."
"We are intimate," she said softly, trying to calm him down.
He scoffed. "You know exactly what I mean. Don't play dumb."
Her pulse pounded. "What's gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?"
"Because I'm sick of waiting!" he roared, his hands clenched into fists. "I want to feel you, Ana. To be inside you. Because that's what people in love do."
She felt her world tilt.
This wasn't Dylan. Not her Dylan. This was someone else, someone she didn't recognize. Her chest tightened as she slowly slid off the bed, reaching for her clothes. "If this is how you feel, maybe I should stay somewhere else tonight."
His face paled. "Wait—what?"
"I need space." She yanked on her shirt, her fingers trembling as she packed a bag. "I'll crash at Rosie's or my brothers' place."
"No. No, we need to talk about this."
"We already did." She slung the bag over her shoulder and stormed toward the door.
Before she could open it, Dylan's hand slammed it shut.
Her heart lurched.
"Move," she ordered.
"Ana, please." His voice softened, desperation creeping in. "I didn't mean to—"
"I said, MOVE."
Something inside her snapped. A force surged through her veins, electric and wild. The door handle twisted under her grip, and suddenly—it flung open. Dylan stumbled back, eyes wide in shock.
She didn't wait.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't stop to process the impossible thing that had just happened.
She bolted down the steps, the night air hitting her like a slap. She should have been angry. She should have been heartbroken.
Instead, all she felt was shivers down her spine.
As she reached her car, her pulse stuttered. There, in the shadows beneath the trees, stood a figure.
Watching.
Waiting.
A slow, mocking smile spread across her lips, masking the chill crawling up her spine. "Oh, great. My imaginary friend is back."
But deep down, she knew.
This was no hallucination.
And whatever was lurking in the darkness… it didnt seem human.