He is not that guy I met that night

Henry's smile lingered on his lips as his hands casually slid into his pockets, his movements exuding a relaxed confidence as he strolled towards the area where everyone had stored their luggage. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, and Alice couldn't resist the pull, her curiosity and attraction propelling her towards him.

As she approached, Alice's eyes fixated on Henry's sculpted physique, his shirtless form a testament to his strength and vitality. With a boldness born of both desire and the thrill of the moment, she gently placed her hand on his chest. Henry's hands, momentarily occupied within his pockets, took a few seconds to react, extending to meet Alice's touch.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as Alice's hand made contact with Henry's bare skin. A mischievous smile played upon Alice's lips as she tested the firmness of his muscles beneath her fingertips. The sensation of his warm skin beneath her palm sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. In that moment, she felt the electric connection between them, the energy swirling in the air.

"Wow, your grip on my wrist, I like it. You're strong" Alice said while making a strong eye contact with him.

Henry, caught off guard by Alice's unexpected touch, felt a surge of irritation welling up within him. He had made it clear before that he wasn't interested in her advances, yet she persisted in her pursuit. In that instant, he jolted her hand away, his actions conveying his frustration and a clear message that her affection was unwelcome.

Alice stood there, her hand still suspended in the air, a mixture of shock and disappointment washing over her. She had hoped for a different outcome, a confirmation of her suspicions or perhaps a deeper connection. Alice, however, seemed unfazed by his rejection and instead found herself blushing.

Excitedly, Alice sought out Dhalia to share her encounter.

"Oh my God, did you see Henry? He was shirtless! Day by day, my emotions for him are growing stronger." Alice said excitedly

Dhalia, lost in her own thoughts and uncertainties, listened to Alice but couldn't fully engage in the conversation. Doubts clouded her mind as she tried to reconcile her encounter with Henry from that fateful night. She couldn't comprehend how there were no visible marks or wounds on his chest, considering the severity of her attack. Confusion overwhelmed her as she questioned her own perception.

Alice approached Dhalia, her excitement palpable as she couldn't contain her words. "Oh my God, did you see Henry? He was shirtless!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with awe. "Day by day, my emotions are getting stronger for him," she added, her tone tinged with a mix of infatuation and longing.

Dhalia, however, found herself lost in a web of conflicting thoughts. She struggled to believe that Henry could be the same person she had encountered that fateful night.

Doubts crept into her mind as she questioned the absence of any visible wounds or scars. "I don't believe this," she murmured to herself, her brow furrowing. "How is it possible that there's no mark? I'm sure Henry is the same guy I met that night. Am I wrong? Is he not the same guy?"

Her confusion intensified, casting a shadow over her previous assumptions. She couldn't shake off the memory of the forceful encounter, the stabbing motion that had left an indelible mark on her mind. But now, faced with the absence of any physical evidence, doubt clouded her perception. "Maybe I'm wrong," she whispered, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "There's no way there's no wound. How could it heal in just a week?"

As Dhalia's thoughts raced, Alice noticed her friend's inner turmoil. Concern etched across her face, she gently reached out and touched Dhalia's arm. "What's wrong?" Alice asked, her voice filled with genuine care and worry.

Dhalia's declaration echoed through the air, a mixture of relief and uncertainty in her voice. "He is not that guy I met that night," she exclaimed, hoping to convince herself more than anyone else.

Alice, filled with excitement, wholeheartedly embraced Dhalia's statement. "Thank God," she exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face. "I knew it, he is too hot for that."

Amidst the momentary relief, Alice's playful remark caught Dhalia off guard. "Wait a minute," Alice chimed in, her tone filled with amusement. "Did you make him take off his shirt? You're not as innocent as I thought you were." Alice's smile widened, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

Dhalia blushed, slightly flustered by the implication. "No, no, it wasn't like that," she hurriedly replied, shaking her head.

Though Alice's teasing brought a lighthearted moment, Dhalia couldn't dismiss the nagging doubts that still clouded her mind. She found herself torn between her gut feeling and the image of Henry before her. His undeniable attractiveness and seemingly pleasant demeanor seemed to contradict her initial suspicions. Yet, a lingering sense of caution lingered within her.

Dhalia couldn't help but be torn between two conflicting forces—the intuition that had guided her in the past, her gut feeling, and the lack of visible evidence before her eyes. The internal battle waged within her, leaving her uncertain and hesitant.

Gently biting her lip, Dhalia tried to make sense of it all. She had encountered a person that night, a person who had left a lasting impression on her. The memory was vivid, etched deeply into her consciousness. But here stood Henry, seemingly unscathed, without a trace of the encounter she believed they had shared.