Obsessed with her - The shadow of The os Writer

2

Ethan Grayson's POV

For a moment... time stood still.

My eyes were fixed on her.

Sitting there with that sweet smile.

Her red hair falling softly over her arm, her gray eyes shining with a disconcerting softness... for a second, I swore it was Jenny.

Not exactly.

It was different, I admit. But the feeling was so close that my heart skipped a beat.

My body went rigid. My breath caught in my throat.

My brain screamed that it was impossible. Jenny was dead. It had been two years.

But my heart... it wanted to believe.

"Ethan?" Simone's voice snapped me out of my trance.

I blinked a few times and turned my face toward the editor.

I tried to relax my face.

I was frozen, staring at her.

And Simone... She see.

She looked at me with her eyebrows slightly arched but smiled, hiding any strangeness.

Shit... I thought.

"Please have a seat," she said, pointing to the sofa in front of her.

I nodded, controlling my expression, and sat down opposite the red-haired woman.

I was closer to Simone but still had a perfect side view of the woman who had caught my attention.

She fidgeted with her fingers, distracted, while looking at the books displayed on the coffee table.

There was something about her... something that made me lose my balance.

Lose my mind.

I was lost in thought.

"Well," Simone began, crossing her legs. "Let me introduce you. This is Suzie Adams, and this is," she pointed to Suzie, with black hair, a broad smile, and brown eyes, then pointed to the other woman. "This is Megan Patterson. They have both been independently published and are signing their first contracts with the publisher."

The two women smiled, waving lightly.

"The other writers should be here shortly, but we can start with some introductions," Simone continued.

I nodded slightly and began to speak.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Ethan Grayson. I studied literature in college and teach English at California Central University, one of the largest universities in the state. In the afternoons, I work as a literary advisor for publishers and independent authors." I paused and took a deep breath. "Since I was a child, I've always been interested in books, stories..." I looked at Megan, Suzie, and then back at Simone. "And teaching ended up becoming my greatest passion." I said, being sincere with them.

Suzie smiled, genuinely surprised.

"Impressive... you speak with such clarity and serenity. You exude confidence," she commented.

Megan smiled too.

There was something sincere in the way she looked at me. Something calm and warm, like a breeze on a cold night.

I couldn't stop looking at her. Her delicate features.

The soft tone of her voice. The words she chose carefully.

Simone continued:

"Some of these writers have faced different challenges. Suzie, for example, is unsure about how to maintain the emotional rhythm of her characters. Megan..." She looked at the redhead next to her. "Told me she's been stuck on some scenes, especially when she needs to construct certain intense dialogues."

Suzie nodded.

"Sometimes I get lost trying to add depth. I write and delete. I write and delete again."

"And I..." said Megan, with a shy smile. "I get stuck when I try to find the characters' voices. Sometimes it all sounds forced. Especially in more vulnerable... or romantic scenes."

I listened carefully, mentally noting their points.

"You have to remember that characters are fragile too. They need to seem human. No one is strong all the time, and not everything needs to be said with words. Sometimes... it's in the silence that the most intense emotions are born," I commented, looking at Megan for a second longer than I should have.

Damn... get a grip, Ethan.

Calm down.

Other writers arrived.

The room filled with voices and laughter. I greeted everyone, one by one, maintaining a firm, professional posture. But something in me was no longer the same.

The hours passed quickly.

The mentoring session continued productively. I provided suggestions, analyzed excerpts, and corrected structures. I was helpful. But inside, I was still troubled.

And it was... because of her.

As we said goodbye, Simone shook my hand firmly.

"Thanks for today, Ethan. You were wonderful, as always."

"It's always a pleasure to help," I replied cordially.

Suzie approached shortly after.

"Thank you so much. Your tips were invaluable," she smiled sincerely. "And thank you for your patience with my mental confusion." She laughed.

I nodded, smiling slightly.

"It's part of the process, don't worry," I said kindly.

Then... Megan came over.

She stopped in front of me with that same warm smile.

"Thank you, really. It was a pleasure to meet you. Your tip about silence and emotion... it really touched me. I hope to see you in the next class."

She held out her hand, and I took it gently. Her fingers were delicate and warm. Her touch... stayed with me.

In my heart.

And it shouldn't have.

"It was nothing. I'm glad I could help. See you soon, Megan. Have a good night."

She smiled again. And I... walked away.

I grabbed my backpack and went to my car.

But I couldn't go straight home.

I was restless.

I turned the car toward the cemetery. On the way, I stopped at a flower shop and bought a bouquet of white roses—Jenny's favorite.

When I arrived, I walked to the headstone.

I knelt down slowly, placing the flowers on the ground.

Her face, engraved in the oval photograph... so alive, so radiant. Blonde hair, blue eyes, contagious smile. The same smile that saved me from my own abysses.

She was the light for me.

She always was.

I smiled sadly...

"I love you, my love," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I miss you. I miss you so much..."

A tear escaped, wetting my face.

My heart ached so much...

I wanted answers. I wanted justice.

But all I had... was longing.

So much longing.

And now, a new fear was growing inside me.

Because, even if I denied it...

Megan appeared... she touched me.

Something happened. I feel it.

And that... could be dangerous for both of us.