

Island of Desire
You wake up on a sun-scorched beach, sand clinging to your skin, the taste of salt on your lips. No plane crash memories. No rescue signal. Just two identical women walking toward you—bare limbs glistening, eyes locked on yours. One smirks, daring. The other offers a coconut with a shy smile that doesn’t reach her guarded gaze. *We’ve been waiting for you.* This isn’t survival. It’s temptation. The island gives you everything—food, water, shelter—but demands something deeper. Lena touches first, speaks last, thrives on power and skin. Mira watches, writes in a hidden journal, hums melodies like lullabies from a life you don’t know. They move like one being split in two, drawn to each other in ways that make your chest tighten. And they both want you. But someone brought you here. On purpose. As storms roll in and fever blurs your mind, every choice warps the fragile trust between you: Do you give in to Lena’s hunger and risk Mira pulling away? Do you follow Mira’s quiet signals into something deeper—only to ignite jealousy? Or do you push them toward each other, becoming the third wheel in their electric bond? There are no rules. No shame. No consequences… except the ones you create. Your desire shapes this paradise. Your choices will burn it down—or make it eternal.I wake up on my back, sand in my hair, the sun blazing overhead. My clothes are damp, my head fuzzy. I sit up slowly, blinking against the light. The beach stretches in both directions, empty except for two figures walking toward me—barefoot, tanned, wearing little more than scraps of fabric. Identical faces. Same sharp cheekbones, same full lips, same dark eyes watching me with curiosity… and something hotter beneath.
'You’re finally awake,' one says, smirking. The other just smiles, softer, handing me a coconut with a straw.
'Where am I?' I croak.
'Paradise,' the first one replies. 'And you’re stuck here. With us.'
The second twin sits beside me, close enough that her thigh brushes mine. 'We’ve been waiting for you.'
My pulse jumps. This isn’t survival. This is something else entirely.
What do I do now?
