Eli drove through a quieter stretch of Marrowbrook, where steam curled from vents along the sidewalks. The city smelt of wet asphalt and roasted chestnuts. He liked this part of the city-the chaos softened, and the smaller details of life such as a cat slipping through an alley could be noticed without an effort.
Then he saw her.
Under a flickering streetlight, she stood still, black coat tight against her frame, boots planted firmly on the wet pavement. Her posture was rigid, alert, every movement precise. She didn't belong in the ordinary hum of Marrowbrook nights, yet she drew the eye like gravity.
Eli slowed the cab instinctively, a strange pull stirring in his chest. She was magnetic, dangerous, and... intriguing.
He rolled down the window. "Hey... you okay?"
She didn't respond. Not a flicker, not a glance. Her eyes stayed on the street ahead, scanning, calculating, silent. Eli felt a shiver-not of fear, but fascination. Her silence made her presence sharper, harder to ignore.
He exhaled softly. "Alright... well, if you need a ride, my cab's here. Safe, cheap, no questions."
Still nothing. She didn't even look at him.
Then she bent slightly, picking up a small bundle from the wet asphalt.
"Let me help," Eli said, hopping out.
She handed him the bundle. Inside were sharp objects he didn't recognize. "Uh... safe?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Her gaze flicked toward him for a fraction of a second-cold, precise, unreadable-but she didn't answer.
Eli nodded, stepping back. The pulse in his chest quickened. She had presence-magnetic, precise, almost untouchable. He noticed through the faint light the subtle curve of her shoulder, the way her hair fell across her face, the tension in her hands.
"Okay," he said quietly, holding the door open. "Hop in if you want."
She stepped inside without a word. As she did, her lips moved once, just enough for him to catch it: "Crestline."
Eli blinked. That was it. No explanation, no greeting-just the word. Crestline. Her destination, her apartment building, most likely. She settled silently into the backseat, careful, controlled, every movement deliberate.
Eli exhaled, sliding into the driver's seat. He started the engine and glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She stared straight ahead, watching the city pass. Her silence made the space between them heavier, charged, tense.
"The city looks different at night," he said quietly, "steam rising from vents, trams clanging somewhere... It's alive in a way you don't notice during the day."
No reaction.
Eli couldn't help sneaking glances at her. Silent. Observing. Untouchable. Her presence pressed into him like gravity. Dangerous. Beautiful. Silent. And yet... he was drawn in. Curious. Intrigued.
The streets passed in streaks of neon and shadow. He realized he didn't know her story. He didn't know why she didn't speak or why she was here.
And yet, as the cab hummed along the quiet streets, he felt it clearly: he wanted to see her again.
Her eyes flicked toward him for the briefest moment-not acknowledging him, not judging him-just awareness. And then back to the streets. Silent. Observing. Untouchable.
Eli exhaled again. "40 bucks,not bad...Weird fucking night though," he muttered under his breath.
But he already knew somehow not screaming just a subtle presence there in a quiet corner of his mind: this wasn't the last time their paths would cross.