Possessive Hearts

Yuki Mori's POV --- I noticed Louis Myrtle before anyone else did. Not because he was loud or demanding attention-he wasn't. He sat quietly near the window in our classroom, the pale morning light cutting across his desk like it had chosen him specifically. While others laughed, whispered, or tapped their phones under the table, Louis remained still, eyes lowered, pen moving steadily across paper. It was the stillness that drew me in. People like that always hide something. I remember the exact moment my gaze lingered too long. It was the second week of term. The air smelled faintly of chalk dust and perfume, and the hum of idle conversation buzzed around me. I was smiling-of course I was. I always smiled. Warm, polite, gentle. The kind teachers adored and classmates trusted without question. That was when Louis looked up. Our eyes met. For a fraction of a second, the world thinned. No sound. No movement. Just him and me. He didn't flinch. Didn't look away. Didn't smile. His eyes were dark-not empty, but observant. Like he was cataloging me, quietly filing me away in his mind. Something inside me tightened. I looked away first. I told myself it was nothing. A coincidence. A moment stretched too thin by imagination. Yet when I glanced back, my heart fluttered in a way I had never experienced before. Louis Myrtle. I learned his name that day. From then on, it was impossible not to watch him. I memorized the way he walked-unhurried, purposeful, as if the hallway bent to accommodate him. I learned which days he bought canned coffee from the vending machine and which days he skipped it. I noticed how he never spoke unless spoken to, and when he did, his voice was calm, almost detached. Clean. Controlled. Perfect. I told myself my interest was innocent. That was the lie I repeated most often. I sat two rows behind him, slightly to the left. From there, I could see everything. The slight tension in his shoulders when a classmate leaned too close. The way his fingers tightened briefly around his pen when someone invaded his space. The way his gaze sometimes drifted-not randomly, but intentionally-toward me. Every time it happened, my pulse quickened. Did he know? Of course he did. People always noticed me. I was Yuki Mori, after all. The girl with the soft voice and softer smile. The daughter of a man whose name carried weight even when spoken quietly. Teachers treated me gently. Students treated me carefully. No one ever suspected me. That was the beauty of it. I watched Louis the way others watched romance dramas-hungry, attentive, emotionally invested. But unlike fiction, this was real. He was real. And I wanted him. Not in the way girls whispered about crushes in locker rooms. I wanted to own him. I wanted to be the first thing he thought of when he woke up. The last thing he thought of before sleep claimed him. I wanted his routine to revolve around me, even if he didn't realize it yet. Love, I believed, was simply possession softened by affection. I started small. I learned his schedule. Louis arrived at school at exactly 7:28 a.m. He left at 4:10 p.m. on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, he stayed later-club activities, though I never bothered to learn which one. It didn't matter. What mattered was that I knew. I adjusted my own schedule accordingly. I positioned myself where he would pass. I made sure my laughter floated just loudly enough to reach him. I asked teachers questions I already knew the answers to, just to catch his attention. Sometimes, I caught him watching me. When I did, I smiled. Soft. Sweet. Harmless. Inside, I burned. Weeks passed, and still, he never approached me. At first, that irritated me. Then I realized-Louis was patient. So I became patient too. There was a girl in our class-Aya. Pretty in an ordinary way. Loud. Careless. The kind of girl who mistook attention for affection. She spoke to Louis more often than anyone else. Leaned too close. Touched his arm when she laughed. Every time she did, something sharp twisted inside my chest. I watched her hands. Her smile. The way she looked at him like she had the right. She didn't. He was mine. The thought settled in my mind with terrifying ease. I didn't act on it. Not yet. I never rushed things. Impulsiveness was for people who couldn't afford consequences. I could afford anything. Instead, I observed. And then one afternoon, everything changed. I was standing near the stairwell when I saw them. Louis and Aya. She was holding her wrist, her expression exaggerated-hurt, vulnerable. And Louis... Louis was smiling. Not the polite, empty smile people used to be civil. A real one. His fingers wrapped gently around her wrist, his thumb brushing her skin in a way that made my vision blur. The hallway felt too bright. Too loud. My breath caught, but my expression didn't change. To anyone watching, I looked perfectly calm. I smiled. Inside, something snapped cleanly in half. Betrayal was a strange word. Heavy. Dramatic. But that was exactly what it felt like. As if he had broken a promise he never made-but should have known existed. I turned away before they noticed me. My steps were steady. My smile remained intact. I even greeted a classmate on my way out, my voice warm and pleasant. But my mind was already working. Planning. Adjusting. If Louis wanted to play, then I would change the rules. I didn't confront him. I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I waited. Hunters didn't chase blindly. Predators understood timing. And when the final bell rang that day, I already knew what I was going to do. Louis Myrtle had looked so comfortable holding another girl. I wondered how he would look when he had no choice but to hold his fear instead. ---🖤 End of Chapter 1🖤