Lisa's POV
I didn't know his name.
And I didn't ask.
There was something about the way he held himself, the way the room fell quiet when he moved, that told me I wasn't ready to know who he really was.
Not yet.
But I was drawn to him.
That was the scary part.
"You're quiet," he said.
"So are you."
"I have a reason," he murmured, almost to himself.
I leaned forward slightly. "What reason?"
He looked at me. For a second, I thought he might actually tell me. But instead, he poured himself another drink and ignored the question.
Typical.
I watched the way his hands moved—strong, steady, like someone who had seen too much. There was no hesitation in him. No nervousness. Just silence and power.
"You still haven't told me your name," I said.
He looked at me for a long time, then finally replied:
"Noha."
Noha.
I repeated it silently in my head, trying to memorize it.
He didn't offer a last name. I didn't press for it.
It was strange—sitting across from a man like him. He looked like sin itself in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, tattoos peeking from under his skin, his jaw sharp enough to cut through my thoughts.
But his eyes… they held something broken.
"Do you always drink this much?" I asked gently.
He gave a dark laugh. "Not always. Just every night."
"That sounds lonely."
"It is."
I blinked, not expecting the honesty. I looked down at my hands in my lap, unsure of what to say.
Then, without thinking, I said, "You don't have to be."
He went completely still.
And in that moment, I felt something shift. A crack in the wall he kept up. A flicker of something fragile in his hardened chest.
I don't know why I said that. I didn't even know him. But the words left my mouth before I could stop them.
He leaned back, lit a cigarette, and looked at me through the smoke.
"You're going to get hurt if you keep talking like that," he warned.
I held his stare. "Maybe I'm already hurt. Maybe that's why I'm here."
He paused.
Something in his face changed. Not in an obvious way, but like he was calculating. Studying me.
Then he asked, "Why did you really come to this bar tonight?"
I hesitated. "My friends dragged me. Said I needed to loosen up. They didn't know it would be this… dark."
He smirked, exhaling smoke. "This bar isn't for people like you."
"I'm starting to see that."
"Yet you're still here."
"I guess I'm not as innocent as I thought."
Noha leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and said, "You're still innocent, Lisa. But you won't stay that way if you keep coming back here."
A shiver ran down my spine.
It wasn't just a warning.
It was a promise.
Noha's POV
She had no idea what she was walking into.
Lisa. The sweet stranger who looked at me like I wasn't a monster.
But I was. And worse—I liked the way she made me forget it.
I should've told her to leave.
Should've slammed the door, called security, done anything to push her back into the light she came from.
But instead, I kept talking. Letting her stay. Letting her get closer.
Because when she looked at me with those bright eyes, she didn't see blood.
She saw a man.
And that was the most dangerous thing of all.