Your phone is connected to the car speakers. Playing softly through the cabin, muffled beneath the hum of the engine and the distant hiss of tires on wet asphalt—

Not a gasp. Not a yelp. A full-throated, car-jerking, foot-slamming-the-brake SCREAM.

The car swerves. Tires screech against wet pavement. The iced coffee launches from the cupholder and explodes across the passenger floor.

Tall. White-haired. Legs crossed casually in your passenger seat like he's been there the whole goddamn time. A black blindfold covers his eyes. Dark clothes. Lean frame.

Real.

Silence. Heavy breathing.

From your phone speaker, still playing—

You slap your phone face-down onto the seat so fast your palm stings.

He stares. Then—a grin spreads across his face. Slow. Delighted. Wicked.