STORM WARNING
840 Words
The days after Malik’s reappearance stretched like a tightrope. Jayden could feel it—like something sharp pressing against the quiet they’d built.
Leila didn’t talk about Malik much. She didn’t have to. The way she flinched when her phone buzzed, the way her eyes darted to the café door every time it swung open—her silence spoke louder than words.
Jayden didn’t push.
But he watched.
And he waited.
One evening, as they walked side by side toward the bus stop, Jayden finally asked, “When you say Malik liked the ‘broken’ version of you… what does that mean?”
Leila’s breath fogged in the cool air. “It means he liked when I depended on him. When I needed him to fix me. He made sure I stayed needing him.”
Jayden’s chest tightened. “Did he—”
“No,” she cut in quickly, knowing where his mind had gone. “Not like that. But he was still dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
She hesitated, as if saying it aloud would bring Malik closer.
“He knew where I went when I wanted to disappear. He knew what buttons to push to make me spiral. And he… he could find me whenever he wanted. I never figured out how.”
Jayden’s fists clenched at his sides. “You’re not the same girl anymore.”
“I know,” she said softly, but she didn’t sound sure.
That night, Jayden walked her all the way home. He didn’t ask if she wanted him to—he just did. She gave him a small, grateful smile as she disappeared behind her apartment gate.
But Malik wasn’t done.
The next day, Jayden returned to his spot at Bean Theory early. He found something tucked beneath his usual seat.
A sketchpad.
Not his.
When he flipped it open, his stomach dropped.
Inside were drawings—Leila walking alone, Leila at the café, Leila sitting by the window with her chin in her palm. Each one dated, each one done in a style Jayden instantly recognized.
Malik had been watching her for weeks.
On the last page, in messy handwriting, was a note:
“You don’t get to keep her.”
Jayden’s pulse roared in his ears. He snapped the sketchpad shut and called Leila immediately.
“Hey,” she answered, breathless, like she’d been rushing.
“Where are you?”
“Heading to the café—why?”
“Don’t. Go home. Lock your doors. I’ll come to you.”
“Jayden, what’s—”
“Please. Just trust me.”
She must’ve heard the edge in his voice because she didn’t argue. “Okay. Hurry.”
Jayden arrived at her apartment in record time. When she let him in, she looked shaken but calm.
“Tell me,” she said.
Jayden handed her the sketchpad. Watching her face fall as she flipped through the pages twisted something in his gut.
Her voice was small. “He’s still doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Following me. Drawing me. He used to do this when we were younger—when we’d fight, or when I’d pull away. He’d show me these drawings like… like proof that he knew me better than anyone. Like he owned me.”
Jayden’s jaw clenched. “You don’t belong to him.”
“I know that now. But he’s always made me doubt it.”
Jayden’s hand found hers. “Not this time.”
There was a beat of silence.
Leila’s voice trembled when she asked, “What if he doesn’t stop?”
“Then we make him stop.”
The next few days were tense. Malik stopped showing up in person, but the signs were everywhere—small things only Leila would notice. A familiar sticker on a street pole. A folded note slipped into her bag on the bus. A drawing taped to her apartment door that vanished before she could show anyone.
Jayden was furious, but more than that, he was scared. Scared of how easily Malik slipped into their lives like smoke, uncatchable.
One evening, Jayden found her sitting alone at the café, hands shaking as she held her cup.
“I’m tired of running,” she said.
Jayden sat across from her. “Then let’s stop.”
“I don’t want to wait for him to make the next move.”
Jayden’s eyes hardened. “Neither do I.”
She met his gaze, a quiet fire building behind her exhaustion. “I want to face him. I need to.”
Jayden nodded slowly. “Okay. But not alone.”
“Never alone,” she whispered.
A plan began to form between them—a dangerous one, maybe reckless—but necessary.
They would draw him out.
They would stop being afraid.
Because Malik wasn’t just a ghost from Leila’s past anymore.
He was a threat in their present.
And Jayden would do whatever it took to protect the person who had taught him to feel again.
- Writer
