THE FEELING THAT LINGERS
920 Words
Elizabeth barely slept.
It wasn’t for lack of trying. She had closed her eyes, turned over more times than she could count, even buried herself beneath her covers as if that could somehow block out the lingering sensation that clung to her skin. But rest never came not fully. Every time she drifted close, she found herself pulled back into the memory of him.
Not a face. Not a name.
A voice that still echoed softly in her mind. A touch that had no right to feel so real.
By the time morning came, she gave up on sleep entirely. She sat in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection longer than usual, as though she expected to find answers written somewhere in her own expression. But all she saw was herself composed, put together, exactly as she had always been.
Only now, something felt different beneath the surface.
Her fingers lifted unconsciously, brushing lightly against her arm the exact place he had touched her. Her breath paused for a moment, and though the warmth was gone, the memory of it remained.
Too clear.
“This is ridiculous,” she murmured softly, shaking her head. “It was just a dream.”
But the words felt weak, unconvincing, even to her.
Because dreams didn’t leave this kind of imprint.
The streets of Middleseki were alive as always, filled with movement, voices, and the steady rhythm of a city that never slowed down. Elizabeth stepped into it like she always did confident, composed, untouched by the chaos around her.
At least, that’s how it appeared.
Inside, her thoughts refused to settle.
She walked with purpose, her gaze forward, but her mind wandered back to the night before. To the way his voice had dropped when he spoke. To the way he had stopped her from seeing him.
If you see me… you won’t be able to forget me.
A faint crease formed between her brows.
“Then why do I feel like I already can’t?” she whispered under her breath.
“Talking to yourself now?”
Elizabeth turned at the familiar voice, a small smile forming as Clara caught up to her. “Just thinking,” she replied.
Clara studied her briefly. “About that dream again?”
Elizabeth hesitated, then exhaled softly. “It didn’t feel like a dream this time.”
Clara raised an eyebrow. “What does that even mean?”
“It means it felt real. Like he was actually there.”
Clara let out a small laugh. “Okay, that’s a little intense.”
“I’m serious,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I could feel him. Not like imagination like someone standing right behind me.”
Clara’s expression softened, though doubt still lingered. “Even if it felt real, it was still a dream. That’s what dreams do they mess with you.”
Maybe she was right.
But logic didn’t explain the way Elizabeth’s heart still reacted at the memory, or the strange pull she felt, like something had started that she couldn’t stop.
They continued walking, their conversation fading into the background as Elizabeth’s focus shifted again. The feeling returned—subtle at first, then sharper.
Her steps slowed slightly.
“Elizabeth?” Clara called. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she replied quietly. “I just feel like
Her words stopped.
Across the street, just beyond the moving crowd, stood a man.
He wasn’t doing anything unusual, and yet everything about him felt out of place. Tall. Dressed in black. Completely still.
Watching her.
Elizabeth’s breath caught.
There was something about him something she couldn’t explain, but it settled deep in her chest like recognition without memory.
Her heart began to race.
“Do you see him?” she asked softly.
“See who?” Clara replied, following her gaze.
But the moment Clara looked, the man turned.
Not abruptly. Not like he had been caught.
Just slowly. Intentionally.
And then he walked away, disappearing into the crowd as if he had never been there at all.
Elizabeth took a step forward without thinking, her focus fixed on where he had been.
“Wait
“Elizabeth,” Clara said, catching her arm. “Who are you talking about?”
She blinked, her thoughts snapping back.
“He was right there,” she said, her voice quieter now. “He was looking at me.”
Elizabeth turned back toward the street, scanning again, but there was nothing. Just people moving, talking, unaware.
Everything looked normal.
But it didn’t feel normal.
Her heart was still racing, unsettled.
She forced a breath out. “Maybe I’m overthinking.”
But deep down, she knew that wasn’t true.
Because the feeling hadn’t gone away.
If anything… it had deepened.
That night, Elizabeth stood by her window, her arms loosely crossed as she stared out at the city below. Middleseki stretched endlessly, glowing under the darkness, beautiful in a way that made it easy to forget what it might be hiding.
Her fingers curled slightly against her arm.
“You’re not just in my head,” she whispered.
It wasn’t a question.
It was a realization.
The air around her felt still, heavy in a way she couldn’t explain.
And somewhere beyond her view, hidden within the shadows of the city, a figure stood watching the faint light from her window.
Unseen.
Unmoving.
His gaze steady.
“You felt it,” he murmured under his breath.
A pause followed.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.
- Writer
