Novel Bin
Instinct and Passion
The Russian streets were nearly empty, the cold air biting at their faces as they walked briskly into the unknown. With every step Dmitri took, Irina felt an invisible line folding behind her, cutting off any chance of retreat. His grip on her hand was firm, possessive, as though she belonged to him now—untouchable by anyone else.
They arrived at a small apartment in an abandoned neighborhood. Irina hesitated as she opened the door, finding the space dimly lit by a single candle on the table. The air was thick with the scent of burnt wood mixed faintly with alcohol.
Irina (nervously): "What is this place? Why did you bring me here?"
Dmitri stood behind her, quietly shutting the door before moving closer, leaving no room for even air to pass between them.
What do you think?
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