The hallway was too quiet. Elena's shoes clicked softly against the polished floor of the psychology department, her steps echoing louder than they should. She hated staying late on campus, but tonight, she didn't have a choice. Her assignment was due in the morning, and the Wi-Fi at her apartment had decided to die—again.
She rubbed her eyes, the words from her textbook blurring together. The silence around her wasn't comforting. It was the kind that pressed on her chest, like someone was watching.
Again.
Ever since the alley, ever since that night with the umbrella and the quiet voice in the rain, Elena had been different. It wasn't just fear. It was something deeper. A constant awareness. A shift in the atmosphere every time she turned a corner or walked alone. Sometimes it was a gift left by her door. A white rose. Her favorite drink from the café she never told anyone about. A small, worn book of poetry she once mentioned offhand to a classmate, now sitting at the edge of her bed when she came home.
He was watching.
And she no longer pretended not to know.
As she reached the end of the hallway, something moved—just at the edge of her vision.
She turned, heart thudding. Nothing. Just the vending machine's soft hum. The dim light flickering above the fire extinguisher.
But her skin prickled.
"Elena," a voice whispered.
She spun around. No one.
Her books nearly slipped from her arms. She swallowed, forcing a laugh. Maybe she was just tired. Maybe she was—
A warm breath grazed her neck.
She gasped, stumbling forward.
No one was there.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She yanked it out. A message. No name. Just words.
"I'm always here. Especially when you're alone."
She backed against the wall, fingers trembling. She should have felt scared. And she did—partly. But what made her stomach twist wasn't just fear. It was something else. Something she didn't want to name.
He wasn't gone. He never was.
Her walk home was a blur. Every step echoed too loud. Every shadow seemed too still. But nothing happened. No footsteps behind her. No sudden voice in the dark.
And yet, when she reached her apartment, the door was slightly open.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She always locked it. Always.
"Hello?" she called softly, stepping in.
Silence.
Her room was untouched. Her textbooks lay on her desk. Her coat still hung on the back of her chair. But something was different.
A single candle flickered on the windowsill. And beside it, a folded piece of paper.
With shaking fingers, Elena picked it up.
"You left your window unlocked. Be more careful. Not everyone watching you has good intentions."
Her eyes darted to the window. It was closed now. Locked.
He'd been inside.
And he'd left her a warning.
She should have called someone. Reported it. Screamed. But instead, she sat down on her bed, the paper in her lap, and stared at the flickering candlelight.
He hadn't hurt her.
He'd protected her.
He was always there. Watching. Guarding.
She didn't understand it.
But she didn't throw the note away either.
She hid it in her drawer and curled up beneath her blanket, eyes wide open, waiting for the shadow she was starting to miss.
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