Video Collection #147
Train romance story | The Stranger on the Night Train
The conductor’s whistle pierced the cool evening air as Clara stepped onto Platform 7, her overnight bag clutched against her side. Second-class sleeper car to Edinburgh—eight hours on the Caledonian Sleeper, and she’d requested a single occupancy cabin. Or so she thought.
Inside the narrow corridor, crimson plush seating lined both sides, and tiny compartments branched off like cells. Cabin 34, the attendant had said. Clara found it near the end, inserted her key card, and pushed open the door.
Already occupied.
A man sat on the lower bunk, legs crossed, reading glasses perched on his nose. He looked up at her arrival, brown eyes widening slightly.
“Oh,” Clara said, her heart sinking. “I’m sorry, I think there’s been a mistake. I specifically booked—”
“The single berths are all filled,” he interrupted smoothly, standing. He was tall, perhaps six feet, with dark hair graying at the temples and a five o’clock shadow that gave him a roguish appearance. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. Alex.” He extended his hand.
Clara hesitated only a second before shaking it. His grip was warm, confident. “Clara.”
“We’ll make it work,” Alex assured her, gesturing to the compact space. “I promise I’m house-trained.”
Despite herself, Clara smiled. There was something disarming about his self-deprecating humor.
An hour later, having settled their belongings and changed into sleepwear (Clara in an oversized t-shirt and shorts), they lay in their respective bunks, the narrow space between them charged with unspoken tension.
“You know,” Alex said into the darkness, “this is rather intimate, isn’t it? Strangers sharing such close quarters.”
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