The One Who Sees Through Me
929 Words
I should’ve known better.
If I wanted peace—
I should’ve stayed away from everyone.
Especially him.
“…You’re avoiding me.”
I froze.
Speak of the devil.
“…I’m not,” I muttered.
“…You are.”
“…I just don’t feel like talking.”
“…Convenient.”
I turned slowly.
Kael stood a few steps away—
Watching me.
As always.
“…Do you ever stop?” I asked.
“…Do you ever start telling the truth?”
“…We’re really doing this again?”
“…We never stopped.”
Silence.
Sharp.
Uncomfortable.
“…What do you want?” I asked.
“…To understand you.”
“…Try harder.”
“…I am.”
He stepped closer.
Not rushed.
Not aggressive.
Just… certain.
And somehow—
That made it worse.
“…You react to pressure before it happens,” he said.
“…That’s called instinct.”
“…No.”
“…Yes.”
“…It’s anticipation.”
I frowned.
“…That’s the same thing.”
“…Not exactly.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“…It’s like you feel it before it exists.”
My chest tightened.
He’s getting too close.
“…You’re overthinking it.”
“…And you’re underestimating it.”
“…There’s nothing to underestimate.”
“…Then prove it.”
“…How?”
“…Stay still.”
“…What?”
“Stay. Still.”
“…No.”
“…Afraid?”
“…Annoyed.”
“…Same thing.”
“…It’s not.”
“…Then stay still.”
I hesitated.
Don’t do it.
“…Fine.”
I crossed my arms.
“…Happy?”
“…Not yet.”
He raised his hand slightly—
Not touching me.
Just—
Holding it there.
The air shifted.
Subtly.
But I felt it.
Pressure.
Faint.
Building.
Move.
I stepped back instantly.
“…There.”
I froze.
“…What?”
“…You felt it before it happened.”
“…No, I didn’t.”
“…You did.”
“…I just reacted.”
“…To something that wasn’t there yet.”
Silence.
“…That doesn’t make sense.”
“…It does.”
“…Then explain it.”
“…You’re connected.”
My breath hitched.
“…To what?”
“…That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“…Well, good luck with that.”
“…You’re not even curious?”
“…No.”
“…Liar.”
“…Realist.”
“…You’re scared.”
“…I’m not.”
“…You are.”
“…I said I’m not.”
“…Then why do you keep running?”
That again.
“…Maybe I just don’t like you.”
“…That’s not it.”
“…You’re very confident.”
“…Only when I’m right.”
“…And you think you’re right about me?”
“…I know I am.”
I clenched my jaw.
This guy—
“…You’re hiding more than just power,” he continued.
“…You’re imagining things.”
“…Am I?”
“…Yes.”
“…Then why do you hesitate?”
“…I don’t.”
“…You do.”
“…Stop analyzing me.”
“…Give me a reason to stop.”
“…I don’t owe you anything.”
“…No.”
He stepped closer.
“…But I’m still going to figure it out.”
Too close.
Again.
But this time—
It felt different.
Not warm.
Not steady.
But heavy.
Like something unseen was pressing down—
Not on my body.
But on my thoughts.
“…What are you doing?” I asked quietly.
“…Nothing.”
“…That’s a lie.”
“…You’re sensitive to it.”
“…To what?”
“…Me.”
I froze.
That’s not good.
“…Don’t do that.”
“…Do what?”
“…Whatever you’re doing.”
“…You mean this?”
The pressure increased slightly.
Just enough—
To make my head spin.
“…Stop.”
“…Say please.”
“…Kael.”
“…That’s not ‘please.’”
“…I’m serious.”
“…So am I.”
I glared at him.
“…You’re unbelievable.”
“…And you’re interesting.”
“…That’s not a compliment.”
“…It is to me.”
Silence.
Then—
He stepped back.
And just like that—
The pressure disappeared.
I exhaled sharply.
“…You’re insane.”
“…And you’re hiding something.”
“…We’ve been over this.”
“…And I’m not done.”
Of course he wasn’t.
“…Why me?” I asked suddenly.
He paused.
“…What?”
“…Why are you so focused on me?”
“…Because you’re not normal.”
“…None of us are.”
“…Not like this.”
Silence.
“…You’re different,” he said.
“…Congratulations. You have eyes.”
“…And instincts.”
“…Good for you.”
“…And they’re telling me something.”
“…What?”
He looked straight at me.
Deep.
Unwavering.
“…You’re going to change everything.”
My chest tightened.
That’s not good.
“…You’re wrong.”
“…We’ll see.”
He turned to leave—
But stopped for a moment.
“…You should learn to control it.”
“…I’m working on it.”
“…No.”
He glanced back slightly.
“…You’re avoiding it.”
Silence.
“…And if you keep doing that—”
His voice lowered.
“…it’s going to break you.”
Then—
He walked away.
Leaving me there.
Alone.
Again.
This is bad.
“…Yeah.”
He’s getting closer.
“…I know.”
Too close.
“…I know.”
And for the first time—
It wasn’t just annoying.
It was—
Worrying.
- Writer
