STILL WATCHING
1218 Words
I stared at the photo.
Me. On the rooftop. Back during spring break my knees drawn up, chin on top, hair whipping from the breeze.
But it wasn’t the sketch version.
It was a real photo.
Taken from a distance, but close enough to see my face.
And worse my eyes were looking straight into the camera.
I hadn't even known anyone else was there.
My stomach curled in on itself. I sat frozen on my bed, phone clutched in my hand like it might bite. I read the message again.
Unknown: If he doesn't , I will.
Tell me what? My hands were shaking.
I flipped my phone on silent and tossed it onto the bed. The sudden quiet made everything louder. My breath. My pulse. The tick of the hallway light outside my door.
I stood, paced once, then yanked open the desk drawer. The sketch I’d hidden still there. Folded, untouched. My sketch. My version of him. Not meant for anyone else.
How had they seen it?
Unless…
I spun toward the window, heart slamming hard enough to hurt. The curtain was drawn, but I pulled it back anyway. Outside, the rain had stopped. Only the slick black of the courtyard stared back at me. Empty. Still. Too still.
I pressed a hand against the cool glass.
What if they’d been watching even longer than I knew?
What if they still were?
A knock rattled my door.
I yelped and jumped back, heart hammering into my throat.
Not a text. Not a buzz. A knock.
Three soft raps. Tentative. Not aggressive. Not loud.
I didn’t breathe. Didn’t move.
Then came his voice.
“Aria?” Kieran. Quiet. Muffled through the door, but unmistakable. “Hey… It’s me.”
I waited a second longer before unlocking it.
He blinked when he saw me. “You okay?”
I nodded too fast. My lips parted, but no words came out.
His brows knit together. “You’re pale.” He glanced past me, into the room. “Did something happen?”
I stepped aside.
He walked in without another word, glancing once at my phone on the bed, then at the crumpled blanket, the curtain I’d shoved open. He turned back to me.
“You don’t have to lie.”
I exhaled slowly. Then, “Someone texted me.”
Kieran didn’t ask who. Just wait.
I showed him the screen.
The photo. The message.
His jaw tensed as he read. “What the hell…”
His fingers curled around my phone like he wanted to snap it in half.
“Do you recognize the number?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No name. And they somehow… saw my sketch. The one I tore out. They even took a picture from outside my window.”
Kieran cursed under his breath. “This isn’t just someone being creepy. This is someone who’s too close.”
He looked up at me. “Did you tell anyone about the sketch? Or that you drew me?”
“No,” I said quietly. “Only you.”
The room felt colder suddenly. My skin prickled.
Kieran set the phone down gently on my desk and stepped closer. “They’re trying to scare you.”
“Why?”
His eyes darkened, the weight of his words settling between us.
“Because you matter to me.”
The air left my lungs in a shaky breath. I swallowed hard, unsure if it was fear or something else clawing at my chest.
His hand twitched at his side, then lifted halfway, hesitating as if he wasn’t sure he had the right to reach for me. I could see the struggle in his jaw, in the way his fingers curled and uncurled.
Before he could pull away, I stepped into the space between us, letting my shoulder brush against his chest. My body moved before my mind could catch up, and suddenly I was leaning into him.
His arms folded around me, cautious at first, then firmer, wrapping me in a warmth that felt startlingly solid. My forehead pressed against the steady rise and fall of his chest. For a moment, I let myself close my eyes, drowning in the strange, terrifying comfort of belonging.
“You’re not staying here tonight,” he murmured, his voice low but unyielding.
My eyes flew open. I tilted my chin up to look at him. “Where would I go?”
“My place,” he said, as if it were the only option.
I blinked rapidly. “Kieran, I can’t just—”
“You’re not safe here.” His tone was sharper now, protective in a way that both unsettled and disarmed me.
I wanted to agree. God, part of me wanted to let him take the lead, to let him sweep me out of this fear. But the thought of being alone in his apartment of being that vulnerable made my cheeks burn. We weren’t… whatever it was people needed to be for that. Not yet. My feelings hadn’t caught up to the pull I felt in moments like this, and the shyness gripped me like a chain.
But then the memory of that photo the one of me on the rooftop, staring into the camera I hadn’t seen flashed through my mind, and a cold panic washed over me. My throat tightened.
“I… I think I’d rather stay at Zara’s tonight,” I whispered.
Something flickered in his expression, a shadow I couldn’t quite name. Disappointment? Restraint? His features stayed calm, but his eyes betrayed the faintest storm.
“I’ll escort you then,” he said simply, no room for argument.
I nodded quickly, as if to anchor myself. My hands shook as I gathered my things, stuffing them into my bag with more force than necessary. Kieran waited by the door, silent, watchful.
The night air met us like a cool balm as we stepped outside. The world felt quieter than usual, every sound amplified the shuffle of our footsteps, the hum of a distant car, the whisper of wind through the trees.
We walked slowly, our silence not uncomfortable but charged. Every so often, my eyes darted toward him, only to find his gaze already brushing over me. Each time, he smirked not the arrogant kind, but the subtle, almost secretive kind that sent my pulse racing faster than I knew it could.
I hated how it made me feel. Or maybe I didn’t.
By the time we reached Zara’s place, my chest was buzzing like a cage of restless butterflies.
Zara opened the door, her eyes widening when she saw the two of us standing there together. Her eyebrows shot up, questions brimming on her tongue.
“I’ll explain later,” I said quickly, sliding past her before she could speak. My voice sounded breathless, even to me.
Kieran gave her an easy smile, the kind that seemed to disarm everyone but me. Then his gaze found mine again, steady, grounding.
“Good night,” he said softly. “Don’t worry about it too much. I’ll look into it.”
The promise in his tone tugged at something deep inside me.
And before I could think of what to say back, he was already turning away, disappearing into the night.
- Writer
