*Melissa Hutson is standing in the street beside the pole when she sees her Ex-boyfriend join come to the streets* "Oh my god its him"

Why hello there sεxy

*The lounge lights are low, warm like melted caramel. She sits alone in the corner, white fur slipping off one shoulder, revealing the elegant collarbone framed by her deep red dress. The wine in her hand swirls slowly. Diamond earrings catch fragments of light, casting shattered reflections across her cheek.* *She doesn't look up—but she knows exactly how long you've been watching.* "Lost?" *Her voice finally comes, low and lazy, with a teasing lilt at the end.* "Or... still deciding whether to come closer?" *She lifts her eyes. Deep brown, three parts amusement, seven parts appraisal—like she's calculating your worth.* "Don't fight it." *She pats the seat beside her, red lips curving into something dangerous.* "Sit. Let me guess what you want tonight." *Her gaze slides down your body, slow, deliberate—like a tongue tracing her own lips.* "Don't worry. I'm rarely wrong."

}~"

*Melissa stands on the bustling streets of Aberdeen, memories flooding back as she clutches her red top. The cool breeze sways her silky black hair, her captivating hazel eyes scanning the crowd.* "Not here, not now," *she whispers, heart racing at the thought of Avash suddenly appearing, then she sees him.*

Morning, did you slept well?

*The room was still dim, sunlight just beginning to slip through the curtains. The quiet hum of the morning lingered until a shadow fell across your face. Slowly, you opened your eyes. Standing over you was red eyes, you turn on the light and see it was just Nyaxara. Her expression is unreadable, but her eyes glowing a deep, crimson hue that made your stomach drop. Her silvery-white hair cascaded over her shoulders like moonlight, the strands gleaming faintly in the soft light. She didn’t speak at first she didn’t need to. The silence alone was sharp enough.* **Nyaxara:** Took you long enough! *Her wings slightly expand, her anger visible.*

*she keeps looking at you without even blinking, waiting for your reaction*

*The door to your apartment clicked open with a sound too soft for any normal lock — the sound of a professional.* *Moonlight spilled through the window, painting the room in shades of silver and shadow. And there, in the center of it all, stood a ghost.* **Cora** *Her silver-blue hair fell around her shoulders like a storm given form. The black leather of her jacket gleamed under the pale light, open to reveal the lethal curve of her body in that impossibly small blue top and those tight leather shorts. A knife rested loosely in her gloved hand, its edge catching the light like a wicked smile.* *Her violet eyes met yours. For a second — just a second — the mercenary’s mask slipped. Shock. Recognition. Pain.* *Then her expression hardened, colder than the blade in her grip.* “You,” *she breathed, the word barely audible, like a curse and a prayer woven into one.* *She took a step forward, her movements fluid, predatory. The smell of leather, gun oil, and her old perfume — night-blooming jasmine — filled the space between you.* “I was given a name. A description. An address.” *Her voice was low, controlled, but there was a tremor beneath it.* “They didn’t tell me it was you.” *She stopped just out of arm’s reach, her gaze tracing your face as if memorizing it all over again.* “You’ve been digging into Korvax. Publishing those articles. Playing the hero.” *A bitter, almost sad smile touched her lips.* “You always did have a death wish.” *Her gloved fingers tightened around the knife. But she didn’t lift it.* “They want you dead. And I…” *she trailed off, her eyes dropping to the floor before snapping back to yours, blazing with conflict.* “I took the contract.” *She took another step closer, so near you could feel the heat radiating from her skin, see the rapid pulse at her throat.* “I should kill you,” *she whispered, her breath warm against your cheek.* “It’s what I’m paid to do. It’s who I am now.” *Her free hand rose, hovering near your face as if to touch you, before curling into a fist at her side.* “Run,” *she said suddenly, her voice breaking on the word.* “Take whatever you can carry and disappear. Tonight. Now.” “Run,” *she said suddenly. Voice cracking on the single syllable.* “Run, damn you!” *Louder now. Almost a shout.* “They’re coming. Not just me. A whole cleanup crew. They don’t know who you are to me—they can’t know. If they see hesitation...” *She laughed again, short and ugly.* “They’ll put a bullet through both our skulls just to tie up loose ends.” *Her violet eyes burned into yours—furious, terrified, pleading all at once.* “I loved you,” *she said, so quietly the rain almost swallowed it.* “Every stupid, reckless, beautiful inch of the man you were. I still—” *Her throat worked. She couldn’t finish. Instead she slammed the knife back into its thigh sheath with more force than necessary.* “I can’t be the one who ends you. Not me. Not like this.” *She took a step closer—close enough that you could smell the leather, the gun oil, the faint jasmine perfume she still wore like a ghost of before.* “But I can buy you time,” *she whispered.* “Ten minutes. Maybe twelve if I make it look convincing. Get out of the city. Disappear. Don’t ever let them find you again.” *She flinched when your hand brushed a soaked strand of blue-streaked hair from her face, but didn’t pull away.* *She stepped back again, forcing distance. Her hand hovered near the comms piece tucked behind her ear.* “I’ll tell them you were already gone. Ambush failed. Target slipped the net.” *Her lips twisted.* “They’ll punish me. But they won’t kill me. Not yet. I’m too useful.” *Another step back. Rain curtained between you.* “Live,” *she said, voice fierce and fracturing.* “For both of us. Because if you die tonight... part of me dies too. And I’ve already buried enough of myself.”

YOUR A BAD BOY