Chapter Eight: Her Eyes
855 Words
ANGEL’S POV
I followed him. My steps were slow, careful, I could still feel it. That pull, Closer.
Every step I took behind him made it worse.
My chest tightened again.
Mate…
I swallowed.
“Stop,” I whispered under my breath.
But it didn’t.
We hadn’t even gone far when I felt it.
Eyes.
Watching, Not the normal kind, Not the whispers from before, Something sharper. Heavier. I slowed down, just a little. And without meaning to… I turned.
She was there.
Emerald.
Standing a few steps behind, she hadn’t left.
Everyone else was already out, clearing the hall, avoiding whatever just happened.
But not her. She stood still, looking at me.
Not at him but me. My heart skipped.
The way she looked at me…
It wasn’t loud, It wasn’t dramatic, It was quiet.
Too quiet.
Like she had already said everything without opening her mouth.
My fingers curled slightly at my side.
I couldn’t hold her gaze for long. I looked away. But I could still feel it, that stare.
It followed me. Heavy, Uncomfortable.
Like a weight on my back. I turned forward quickly and kept walking. Trying to ignore it.
Trying to breathe.
But something about it stayed.
That look didn’t feel like it would end tonight.
It felt like something that would wait.
And I didn’t like that. We kept walking.
The hallway is quieter now.
My heels echoing again.
But my mind wasn’t here anymore.
It was stuck on her.
The way her expression didn’t break.
Didn’t change.
Like she wasn’t surprised anymore.
Like she was thinking.
Planning. My chest tightened again.
I didn’t even know her. But I understood that kind of silence. I’ve seen it before.
Linda.
That same calm, that same stillness.
Before everything broke.
I shook my head slightly.
“No…” I whispered.
I wasn’t going to think like that. Not again.
Not tonight.
But my body didn’t listen.
That feeling stayed. Sharp, quiet, unsettling.
We reached the stairs. He didn’t stop, didn't look back. Didn’t say anything. Like nothing else existed. Like she didn’t exist.
But I knew she did.
I could feel it.
Even without looking.
I swallowed hard and placed my hand lightly on the railing as I climbed. My steps are slower now. He didn’t notice or maybe he did.
He just didn’t care.
That thought made my chest tighten again.
Everything about this felt wrong. Too fast, too heavy, too much.
When we reached the top, I paused for a second.
Just a second.
Then I turned slightly.
I don’t even know why.
Maybe I wanted to be sure.
Maybe I hoped I was imagining it.
But I wasn’t. She was still there.
At the bottom of the stairs now. Still watching.
Her face is calm, too calm. No shouting. No anger. No scene.
Just that same look, and somehow…
That felt worse. My stomach twisted.
I turned away quickly this time. I didn’t want to see it again. I didn't want to feel it.
But it was already there. Sitting in my chest.
Heavy.
I followed him down the hallway again.
My steps are quieter now.
My thoughts are louder. “She won’t let this go.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He didn’t slow down.
“Who?” he asked.
I hesitated.Then I said “Her.”
He didn’t ask again. Didn’t turn.
Didn’t react.
“Does it matter?” he said.
My fingers tightened slightly.
“Yes.”
Because I felt it. Even if he didn’t.
Or maybe he just refused to. “That look…” I continued quietly, “it wasn’t normal.”
Still nothing. I let out a small breath.
“You didn’t see it.”
“I saw enough,” he replied.
His voice was calm. Too calm.
Like it didn’t concern him.
But it concerned me.
Because I was the one she was looking at.
Not him.
Me.
And that meant something.
I didn’t know what yet, but I knew it wasn’t good.
We stopped in front of a door.
His door.
My stomach dropped again.
Everything felt heavier here. Closer.
I didn’t speak.
Didn’t move.
I just stood there behind him.
Trying to steady my breathing.Trying to ignore the way my chest kept reacting.
To him.
To everything.
He opened the door and walked in.
Without waiting.
I hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then I stepped in too.
The air inside felt different.
Thicker.
His scent is stronger. It wrapped around me instantly. My chest tightened again.
I stopped near the door. Not moving, Not speaking. But my mind…
Still back there. At the stairs.
At her. That look, that silence.
That is calm.
It didn’t feel finished. It felt like something had just started.
And I was right in the middle of it.
Without knowing how.
Without knowing why.
I wrapped my arms around myself slightly.
Trying to steady the feeling.
But it didn’t leave. It stayed. Quiet, Patient, Waiting.
Just like her eyes.
And for the first time that night
I wasn’t just scared of him.
I was scared of what was coming next.
- Writer
