You’re Not Supposed to Leave

Chapter 3 : Nowhere to Avoid

Lena didn’t sleep well that night. It wasn’t the room—Elias had arranged something clean, quiet, almost too quiet. Nothing was visibly wrong, nothing she could point to and say this is why I can’t rest. But her body refused to settle. She kept waking, not fully, just enough to feel it—the silence, the stillness, and that lingering sense that she wasn’t entirely alone. By morning, she was already exhausted, and already certain of one thing: she needed distance. From him.

Elias Rowan. The name stayed in her mind longer than it should have. Not because she liked him, but because she didn’t trust him. There was something about the way he looked at her—too focused, too aware, too much. It made her uneasy in a way she couldn’t explain. So she made a decision. She would keep her distance, observe the village, do her work, and leave when she had what she needed.

The plan failed within the first hour.

She stepped out just after sunrise. The air was colder than expected, carrying that same unnatural stillness. The village looked clearer in daylight, and that made it worse. She walked quickly, camera in hand, choosing a path that led away from where Elias had taken her the night before. Deliberately. She didn’t look back. For a moment, it worked.

Then she saw him.

He was standing at the end of the path. Not blocking her. Not moving. Just there, as if he had always been there. Waiting.

Lena stopped. “You’re up early,” she said, keeping her voice neutral.

Elias didn’t answer immediately. His eyes moved over her—slowly, deliberately—taking in everything.

“You shouldn’t walk alone,” he said.

“It’s morning.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

His tone was calm. Too calm.

Lena forced a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”

He stepped closer. Not fast. Not aggressive. Just enough. The space between them shifted—shrunk—without permission.

“I said—”

“I heard you,” she cut in.

A brief silence followed.

She stepped back. He didn’t move forward, but it didn’t help. The distance still felt too small.

“I just need to look around,” she said.

Elias watched her. Then—“Not that way.”

“Why?”

“That part of the village isn’t for you.”

Not an explanation. A boundary.

She hesitated, then turned to another path. He didn’t stop her this time. But she could feel it—his gaze—still on her as she walked away.

That should have been enough. It wasn’t.

Every path she took—she saw him again. At a corner. Near a house. By a fence. Never following. Never calling her back. Just there.

At first, she thought it was coincidence. Then routine. Then—something else.

By the third time, Lena stopped pretending. She turned toward him, meeting his gaze directly.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”

Elias tilted his head slightly. “Doing what?”

“Being everywhere.”

A brief silence. He didn’t look away.

Lena exhaled, patience thinning. “Look—can you please stop following me?” She tightened her grip on the camera, then added, “Don’t you have anything else to do?”

The words came out sharper than she intended. Honest. A little irritated.

For a moment, Elias just looked at her.

There was something about the way she stood there—trying to stay firm, clearly annoyed, but not afraid.

It should have meant nothing.

It didn’t.

Something in his chest shifted. Not heavy this time—lighter. Unexpected.

Cute.

The thought came uninvited. He didn’t like it.

His jaw tightened. He could have answered sharply, could have told her to stop wandering, to listen, to understand where she was. He almost did.

But he didn’t.

“…I’m not following you,” he said instead, voice lower, controlled.

Lena raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You just keep walking into the wrong places.”

Not entirely true. Not entirely false.

She stared at him, unconvinced, then looked away first.

Because the way he was watching her—

still felt wrong.

Like standing too close to something dangerous—

and realizing it was already too late to step back.