Obsession begins
Skye didn’t sleep properly.
It wasn’t the kind of sleeplessness that came with restlessness or noise or discomfort. It was quieter than that—more controlled, more deliberate, like her mind had decided it wasn’t done thinking yet and refused to shut down until it was.
Every time she closed her eyes, the same things replayed. The line. The message. The timing.
Better.
Her fingers tightened slightly against the bedsheet as she stared up at the ceiling, watching the fan rotate slowly above her. The movement should have been calming. Familiar.
Something she had seen a thousand times before without thinking about it. Tonight, it felt like it was counting something. Or maybe she was.
She turned her head toward her phone. It lay beside her, still, silent, dark. But it didn’t feel inactive. It felt paused. Waiting.
That thought should have been enough to make her put distance between herself and it.
Instead, she reached for it. Unlocked it. Checked the chat. Nothing new. The last message still sat there.
_miles
Good.
Her thumb hovered over the screen for a second longer than necessary.
Why did that feel like approval?
Why did she notice that?
“…this is stupid,” she muttered under her breath, locking the phone again and dropping it beside her. But she didn’t move away from it. Not really. Because even when she turned back to face the ceiling—her attention stayed there.
By morning, nothing had changed. Except her. She noticed it in small ways.
The way her first instinct wasn’t to get up, but to check her phone. The way her thoughts didn’t start with what she needed to do, but with what hadn’t been said yet.
That shouldn’t have meant anything. It did.
She unlocked the phone again. Still nothing. Her jaw tightened slightly. “…fine.”
She pushed herself up, forcing movement, forcing routine back into place before she let something unfamiliar settle into something worse.
“You look like you fought with your brain and lost.”Rhea’s voice came the moment Skye stepped into the kitchen, casual but observant in the way that made ignoring her impossible.
Skye paused. “You’re dramatic,” she said, moving toward the counter. Rhea hummed lightly. “And you didn’t deny it.”
Skye poured herself water, taking a sip before answering. “I was just thinking.”
“All night?”
Skye didn’t respond. That was answer enough.
Rhea leaned back slightly against the counter, watching her with that same quiet attention she always had when she was trying to figure something out.
“Is it the chapter?” she asked.
“…yeah.”
“Still stuck?”
Skye hesitated. Then, “I changed it.”
Rhea raised an eyebrow. “Changed it how?”
“She stayed.”
A small pause followed. Then Rhea nodded once. “Good.”
Skye blinked. “That’s it?”. What do you want me to say?
“I thought you’d argue about pacing or something.”
“Oh, I will,” Rhea said lightly. “But at least now it’s interesting.”
Skye let out a quiet breath, something in her shoulders easing slightly. Not completely. But enough. Her phone buzzed. Both of them noticed.
Rhea’s lips curved faintly. “There it is.”
“It’s just—”
“‘No one,’ right?” Rhea cut in.
Skye didn’t respond to that. She picked up her phone. The screen lit up.
_miles
Her breath slowed. She opened it.
You didn’t change it back.
Her fingers stilled. Of course he knew. A quiet tension settled beneath her ribs, not sharp, not overwhelming—just present enough to stay.
Her thumbs moved slowly.
Why would I?
Seen.
Immediately. A pause. Long enough to be intentional.
Then—
Because you always do.
Her chest tightened. That wasn’t random. That wasn’t guessing. That was observation.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Rhea said.
Skye glanced up. “What thing?”
“That quiet stare. Like someone just said something you didn’t expect.”
Skye looked back down at her phone. “…it’s nothing.”
“Mm.” Rhea didn’t believe that.
Skye typed again.
You talk like you know me.
Seen.
Faster this time.
I do.
Her breath hitched—just slightly, just enough for her to notice. That answer didn’t feel playful. It didn’t feel like a stranger trying to impress. It felt simple. Certain. And that made it worse.
“Okay,” Rhea said, pushing off the counter. “Now I’m curious.”
“It’s nothing.”
“You’ve said that three times. It’s definitely something.”
Skye locked the phone. But she didn’t put it down. That didn’t go unnoticed.
Rhea’s expression shifted slightly. “You’re holding onto it,” she said.
Skye frowned faintly. “What?”
“The conversation,” Rhea said simply. “You’re not done with it.”
Skye didn’t answer. Because she didn’t know if she was.
“Come out today,” Rhea said after a moment. “You’ve been in here too long.”
“I have work.”
“You have avoidance.”
Skye sighed quietly.
“Just an hour,” Rhea added. “We’ll meet Arjun and the others. Then you can come back and overthink in peace.”
Skye hesitated. Then nodded slightly. “…fine.”
The café was louder than she expected. Not chaotic, not overwhelming—but alive.
Voices overlapping. Cups clinking. Music low but constant. Conversations moving in waves that filled the spaces around her whether she paid attention to them or not.
It should have grounded her. Instead—part of her stayed elsewhere.
Her phone lay on the table in front of her. Screen dark. Silent. But not ignored.
“Skye.”
She blinked, looking up. Arjun was watching her, one eyebrow slightly raised.
“…what?”
“You’ve been staring at your phone for five minutes,” he said. “Either it’s important, or you’re waiting.”
Rhea smirked beside her.
“She’s waiting.”
“I’m not,” Skye said immediately.
“Mm,” Rhea hummed.
Arjun leaned back slightly. “New reader?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Skye opened her mouth—Her phone buzzed. Everyone noticed. Of course.
Rhea didn’t even try to hide it this time. “Answer it.”
Skye hesitated. Then picked it up.
_miles
You left your room.
Her heart skipped. Sharp. Unexpected. Her eyes flicked up instantly, scanning the café without meaning to. People. Conversations. Nothing unusual. Nothing that explained that. Her grip tightened slightly. Her thumbs moved quickly.
How do you know that?
Seen.
Immediately. A pause.
Then—
You don’t stay in one place when you’re restless.
Her breath slowed.
That—
That wasn’t direct. But it wasn’t vague either. It felt like someone watching patterns. Not moments.
“Skye,” Arjun said, pulling her back. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s just something about the chapter.”
“You say that every time you’re distracted,” he said. If only that was still true.
Her phone buzzed again. She didn’t hesitate this time. She opened it instantly.
You’re distracted.
Her lips pressed together slightly.
You’re observant.
Seen.
Pause.
Then—
You’re easier to read when you stop pretending.
Her breath caught. That line—That didn’t belong to a stranger. That felt—too precise.
“Okay,” Rhea said quietly now. “That’s not just a reader.”
Skye didn’t answer. Because she didn’t know what it was. Her gaze drifted back to the screen.
The chat sat open. Waiting. Like it always did. And something shifted. Subtle. Quiet. But undeniable. She wasn’t just responding anymore. She was anticipating.
Her fingers moved before she fully thought about it.
What do you want?
Seen.
Longer pause this time. Long enough to feel like something was being considered.
Then—
You already know.
Her chest tightened. That answer—That wasn’t simple. That wasn’t random. That felt like a step forward.Around her, the café continued like nothing had changed.
Rhea was still talking to Arjun about something she wasn’t fully listening to. Someone laughed at a nearby table. Cups moved. Conversations shifted.
Normal. Everything was normal. Except—it didn’t feel like it anymore.
Her phone buzzed again.
You don’t like losing control.
Her fingers stilled. That hit. Direct. Unfiltered.
Her reply came slower this time.
Who are you?
Seen.
Pause.
Then—
Someone who pays attention.
Her breath slowed again. That wasn’t an answer. But it felt like one.
“Skye,” Rhea said again. She looked up.
Rhea was watching her carefully now.
“You’re not here,” she said.
Skye didn’t argue. Because she wasn’t. Not fully.
Her gaze dropped back to her phone. The screen. The chat. The space where his words appeared.
And for the first time—it didn’t feel like something external. It felt like something that had already found its way in.
Her phone buzzed again. She didn’t hesitate. She opened it immediately.
_miles
Good.
Her breath slowed. Her fingers didn’t move. Because this time—that word didn’t feel simple. It felt like confirmation.
And somewhere between the first message…
the way he answered…
and the quiet shift in her own reactions—
Skye realized something she couldn’t ignore anymore. She wasn’t just talking to him. She was adjusting to him. And that—was worse. Because it meant this wasn’t random.
It meant this was becoming something.
Something she didn’t fully understand yet.
But wasn’t trying to stop.
