His Soft Obsession

Chapter Eight: The Line’s Already Crossed

I tried not to think about him.

Tried to ignore the way his voice stayed echoing in my head like a beat I couldn’t turn off. The way his presence still lingered in my chest long after the car door shut and he drove off like he didn’t just say the most possessive line I ever heard in my life.

“Don’t forget who saw you first.”

Like he already claimed me — without even asking.

Tuesday night I sat on the floor in my room, legs crossed, scrolling job texts on my phone with my laptop open beside me. Bath & Body Works had me on another short shift Thursday and Saturday. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Janiyah had stopped replying. She always passed out early when she had a full belly and drama on the way.

I looked at my reflection in the dark screen of my laptop.

Hair tied up. Skin bare. A little sleepy. A little nervous.

But I didn’t look scared.

There was a knock at the door.

I sat up. It was after 9. Mama was asleep. Nobody ever came around here after dark — not without a reason.

I pulled the curtain back slightly.

No.

Zay.

Leaning against the porch railing like it was his house. Hoodie on. Hat low. One hand in his pocket like he had all night to stand there and wait.

I opened the door slow.

“What are you doing here?”

He looked up, eyes meeting mine like he already had an answer waiting.

“Had to see you again.”

I swallowed hard. “You could’ve texted.”

“I wanted to see your face when I said it.”

I didn’t say anything. Just moved to the side and let him in.

He didn’t come all the way in, just leaned on the inside of the door frame. His presence filled the small room like smoke. Quiet, thick, heavy.

“You always this calm?” I asked finally.

He raised an eyebrow. “You nervous?”

“No.”

He smirked like he knew I was lying.

Then his voice dropped just enough to make my chest tighten.

“You ever had somebody look at you and not want anything from you but you?”

My breath caught.

I didn’t know how to answer that.

He stepped in a little closer.

“I ain’t here to play with you, Lyric. I don’t do games.”

I looked down.

“Why me?” I whispered.

“'Cause you move like you ain’t looking for attention,” he said. “And that’s the kind that gets mine.”

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed loud on the table, making me jump. He looked at it, then at me.

I grabbed it quick — it was Janiyah.

Janiyah: b***h party in two weeks. I found a fit. It’s giving backless. I’m not playing.

I smiled, barely.

Zay noticed.

“What’s that?”

“My best friend. Talking about that party.”

He nodded once. “You going?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“You should.”

“Why? So your whole crew can stare at me and assume I’m yours?”

He looked me dead in the eye.

“Ain’t no assuming.”

My throat went dry.

He didn’t say it loud, but the weight behind it sat in the room heavy.

He stepped forward and gently brushed his fingers down the side of my face — slow, soft, like I’d break if he touched too hard.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, like it was already planned.

Then he turned and walked out, letting the door close behind him like it didn’t even matter whether I wanted him to stay or not.

I stood there in the quiet, heart pounding like I just ran a mile barefoot.

What the hell was I getting into?