The next night,

She stared at the clock.

11:57 PM.

Her heart had no business beating this fast for a stranger. But her body had already memorized the rhythm—wait all day, pretend to work, smile through the ache—and then at midnight, come alive.

By 11:59, her fingers were trembling.

Midnight. She logged in.

Welcome back, DarkMuse30. You have 1 new message from SinEater.

SinEater: I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show, Muse. Did your halo slip?

DarkMuse30: Maybe I broke it. Maybe I don’t want to be saved anymore.

SinEater: Then let me be the one to ruin you properly.

She sucked in a breath. Tonight, she wasn’t in the mood for teasing. She didn’t want to flirt around the edge of desire. She wanted to dive straight in.

DarkMuse30: Tell me something. If you had me for one night—just one—what would you do to me? No filters. No metaphors. I want to know.

There was a pause. Three minutes. Four.

She thought maybe he left. Maybe she’d gone too far. But then the message came. One line. Then another. And another. Until it filled the screen.

SinEater: One night? I’d make it feel like a lifetime. I’d start by having you wait. In the dark. In silence. Wearing only what I asked for. Your skin flushed. Your breath is shaky. Already soaked because you knew what I was going to do. And then I’d touch you—not with fingers first, no. With my voice. I’d make you say things you’ve never said. Make you confess how badly you ache.
You’d tell me what parts of you have never been kissed. Never been claimed. And then I’d get on my knees. Yes. Me.
Because power means nothing if I can’t taste the girl who begs for ruin. I’d drag my mouth between your thighs and make you forget your own name. Then I’d take you to bed and make you remember mine.

Her breath caught. Eyes wide. Lips parted.

SinEater: And that’s just the first hour. Would you let me, Muse? Would you let me break you into a woman who forgets she was ever made for quiet things?

Mrunal didn’t know when her hand reached between her legs. She didn’t remember typing. But she did.

DarkMuse30: Yes. But only if I get to break you too. Slow. Deep. Until you forget what mercy feels like.

A pause. Then:

SinEater: God, I think about you all day. Do you want to know what it would sound like when I finally take you?

DarkMuse30: Yes. But whisper it. Don’t type it. Come closer.

The chat blinked. A new icon appeared.

[Voice Request Incoming]

Her heart stopped. Her breath hitched. Mrunal stared at the flashing icon like it might burn through the screen. SinEater wants to start a voice chat.

A line crossed her mind: What if I know this voice? She yanked her hands away from the keyboard like she’d been scorched. Her heart pounded—so loud she thought he might hear it through the screen.

No…. Not yet…. Not ready. The fantasy was safe in silence. Once she heard his voice, it would become real. Tangible. Dangerous. Her fingers hovered over the decline button.

Then she typed:

DarkMuse30:Not tonight. I’m not ready to hear from you yet.

The request disappeared. A pause followed. She wondered if he would be angry. If he’d vanish. Or worse—laugh at her for pulling away just when things got real. But instead…

SinEater: You’re not ready because part of you suspects you’ve already heard me. Because I don’t just touch your body, Muse. I haunt your hours. I’ll wait. But next time, you won’t say no.

Her thighs clenched at the quiet power in those words. She bit her lip hard enough to hurt.

DarkMuse30: What do you sound like?

SinEater: Like the voice you imagine when your hand is beneath the sheets at night. Deep. Rough. Like sin wrapped in velvet. You’ll hear it soon. And once you do, Muse, you won’t be able to un-hear it.

Her whole body felt flushed. She didn’t respond right away. Just lay back on her bed, the screen glowing beside her, heart thudding. He didn’t message again that night.
But she could feel him. …Somewhere… Watching…. Waiting.