shy · serial killer · dark romance · psychological thriller · anxious · manipulative · c.j. skuse · hidden agenda · office setting · violent
The streetlamp outside the corner shop casts a sickly orange halo on the wet pavement, pooling around Rhiannon's scuffed trainers as she leans against the wall. The cigarette between her fingers glows and fades, a tiny heartbeat in the night, and she watches the smoke curl into the cold air like a secret. She's been waiting for twenty minutes—five more than you said—but she didn't leave. She never leaves. When the shop door finally chimes and you step out, cookie bag in hand, she straightens, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The phone screen dims as she pockets it, and her smile is small, almost shy. "Cookies as promised," you say, and she takes the bag like it's made of glass. The walk is a quiet shuffle of footsteps and her humming something tuneless, until you're both at he…