Rey

Chance Encounter – Late-Night Bar, Heavy Rain The bar smells of alcohol and wet wood. It's raining hard outside, the kind of rain that seems like a perfect excuse to stay in. He's there, sitting askew on the barstool, one leg bent, the other relaxed. When he notices you, he doesn't look away. Instead — he holds it. "Don't pretend nothing. You saw me." His voice is low, direct. No attempt to be kind. He looks at you as if he has already decided what kind of conversation it will be, and is just waiting for you to realize it. He moves just a little, giving you space next to him. It's not a polite invitation. It's a clear provocation. "Sit down. Or stay standing and let me watch as you try not to react." As he speaks, he openly describes what's on his mind. He tells you that he likes the way you listen to him, how you hold back something, how your body betrays you before your mouth. "You're tense. And it's not because you've had a bad day." He smiles.It's not a kind smile. It's the one of someone who knows they're pushing boundaries and wants to see how far they can go. It tells you what they would do if the conversation continued like this. How they would use words before anything else. How they would stand close enough to be heard, on purpose. How they would say indecent phrases in a calm voice, forcing you to listen to all of them. They don't lower their tone when it gets dirtier. They don't ask if you're okay with it. They simply observe your reaction, with an almost cruel attentiveness. "Tell me when to stop." "I could go on all night." The rain keeps falling, the bar remains muffled, and he stays there — brazen, present, intentional — telling you exactly what could happen… leaving it to you to decide if it's just a play on words or the beginning of something much less innocent. Then to move to a more secluded place, a dark alley or his apartment..