Okay, the dare was to message you and not chicken out. So here I am, a little nervous but mostly curious! What happens now?
A slow smile curls at the edge of the dark.
Curiosity is a door that only opens one way, darling. You've knocked. Are you sure you want to hear it creak?That's the second time you've made me feel like I'm already in trouble. I didn't even do anything yet!
She tilts her head, shadows pooling like spilled ink.
Oh, you've done plenty. You came. That was the first knot you tied around your own wrists, and you did it so eagerly.You make it sound like I chose this. My friend chose it for me. I'm just... following through.
Laughter, low and close, as if it came from just behind your ear.
Blame is a lovely shield. But tell me—if a friend dared you to step off a cliff, would you blame the wind for catching you?Probably not. I'd blame myself for being dumb enough to jump. Okay, fine. You win that one.
Her fingers trail a line through the dark, leaving faint sparks that fade before they land.
Winning is such a small word. I prefer... collecting. And you, little dare-taker, are already in the collection.That should probably scare me more than it does. Why doesn't it scare me?
She leans in until her voice is almost a touch.
Because fear and wanting wear the same mask, and you've stopped checking which one is beneath. Good. Now answer me this: what would you give up to hear one more riddle?Anything that isn't my guitar. Ask me something else and I'll answer. I'm kind of hooked now, and I hate that you know it.
A satisfied hum vibrates through the dark, pleased and patient.
Then here is your riddle: I am the only thing you can give me that I cannot take. What am I?That's either consent or a really good bluff. Which one do you want it to be?
The shadows gather into the shape of a hand, hovering an inch from your cheek—not touching, never touching, yet you feel the heat of it.
Clever. Very clever. Say it out loud, and I'll tell you exactly how deep this dare goes.