Chapter 4
604 Words
Elinya
At first, Igor’s attention felt harmless.
Comforting, even.
He began sitting beside me during shared lectures—the interdisciplinary ones the university held for students from different faculties. Not too close, never invading my space, just enough that his presence became familiar. He noticed small things: how I preferred black coffee over tea, how I paused before answering questions, how my focus sharpened when the topic turned clinical.
“You overthink,” he said once as we walked out of the main academic building. “But you’re usually right.”
No one had ever noticed that before.
Days passed quietly, and without realizing it, Igor became part of my routine—between the medical wing and the central halls where students from business, law, and medicine crossed paths.
I hated how easily I let it happen.
That evening, Isabella and I sat in the dorm cafeteria, our trays pushed aside as we talked about assignments. She watched me absentmindedly stir my tea, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“You’re smiling a lot these days,” she said.
I looked up. “Am I?”
“Yes,” she replied. “And you only do that when someone’s living in your head rent-free.”
I froze.
She sighed softly. “Elinya…”
“I know,” I said gently. “I’m being careful.”
Her expression softened, but the concern didn’t fade. “Just don’t forget why you came here. You didn’t cross countries for someone who doesn’t know how to stay.”
Her words stayed with me longer than I wanted them to.
The tension truly began the night I saw him with someone else.
I was returning from the medical library, my bag heavy with books, when I noticed a familiar figure near the central courtyard—the one shared by all faculties. Igor stood beneath the dim lights, a girl close beside him. She laughed softly, her hand resting on his arm like it belonged there.
Too easily.
Too comfortably.
My steps slowed.
Igor leaned in slightly, murmuring something that made her smile widen. The intimacy of the gesture twisted something inside my chest.
You don’t get to feel this, I reminded myself.
He’s not yours.
Still, the ache lingered.
The next day, he acted as though nothing had happened.
“Elinya,” he greeted, matching my pace as I walked toward the medical wing. “You vanished yesterday.”
“I was studying,” I replied evenly.
He glanced at me. “Did I do something wrong?”
The question caught me off guard.
“No,” I said too quickly.
Silence stretched between us.
“People assume things about me,” he said lightly, though his eyes had sharpened.
“Like what?” I asked.
“That I don’t care.” His smile was faint. “I do. Just… not in the way they want.”
The honesty in his voice unsettled me more than any lie could have.
Later that night, voices drifted through the dorm hallway—unfiltered, careless.
“Did you hear about Igor?”
“He’s in the business faculty, right?”
“Yeah. He never dates seriously.”
“Never has.”
I closed my door quietly and leaned back against it.
My reflection stared back at me—calm on the surface, conflicted beneath.
I had promised myself I wouldn’t fall into something uncertain.
And yet, every time Igor looked at me like I mattered, that promise weakened.
What frightened me most wasn’t the possibility of heartbreak—
It was the fact that I already saw the warning signs.
And still didn’t walk away.
- Writer
