Chapter 2 – The Man Who Sees
1430 Words
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Even after I slammed my dorm room door shut and pressed my back against it, the tremor refused to fade.
My roommate glanced up from her laptop, chewing on a pen.
“You look like you saw a ghost,” she said casually.
I laughed. Too loudly. Too brittle. “Yeah. Something like that.”
The sound didn’t fool her. She frowned, pushing her chair back. “Elena, what happened?”
I dropped my bag onto the floor, the weight of his voice still echoing inside me. You’re mine. You always were.
No. I wasn’t going to repeat that out loud. It sounded insane enough in my head.
“Some guy followed me,” I muttered, rubbing my arms. “At the library. Tall, dark suit, creepy eyes. He—he knew my name.”
My roommate’s brows shot up. “What? Did you call security?”
I shook my head. “I ran.”
She blinked. “You ran? Elena, if someone’s stalking you, you can’t just run. You need to report it.”
“I know,” I said quickly. But how could I explain that he had saved me from being crushed under a truck? How could I explain the silver in his eyes that didn’t look human, the certainty in his words that made my blood turn cold?
I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe I imagined it.”
“Imagined what? A man saying your name?”
I sighed. “Forget it.”
But I couldn’t forget. Every time I blinked, I saw his eyes. Liquid silver, glowing faintly, reflecting me like a mirror I never wanted to look into.
Eventually, exhaustion dragged me under.
And that’s when the dream came.
I was standing in a vast, dark hall. Shadows stretched like living things across marble floors. At the far end, a figure waited. Him. Adrian.
He raised his hand, and I felt an invisible thread pull me closer. No matter how hard I fought, my steps carried me toward him.
When I was close enough to see the faint lines of pain etched in his face, he whispered one word.
“Mine.”
I woke up gasping, drenched in sweat, my sheets twisted around me.
The alarm clock blinked 6:00 a.m. in harsh red digits. I rubbed my eyes and forced myself out of bed. My roommate was still asleep, snoring softly. The dream clung to me like smoke, leaving an ache in my chest.
I showered, dressed, and told myself today would be normal. Classes. Coffee. Avoiding creepy men with glowing eyes. Simple.
The campus buzzed with life when I stepped outside. Students hurried across the courtyard, voices mingling, laughter echoing. For a moment, it almost felt like the world was ordinary again.
Until I saw him.
He leaned casually against a lamppost near the path, dressed in another immaculate suit that didn’t belong in daylight. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes—those eyes—found me instantly, pinning me where I stood.
I froze.
No. This wasn’t possible.
He pushed off the lamppost and walked toward me, each step measured, deliberate. Students passed between us, oblivious, as if he were invisible to everyone but me.
My throat tightened. I spun on my heel and marched away, heart hammering.
“Elena,” his voice reached me easily, low but commanding, slicing through the morning noise.
I quickened my pace, weaving through the crowd.
In seconds, he was beside me. I hadn’t even heard his footsteps, but suddenly he was there, matching my stride.
“Leave me alone,” I hissed, not daring to look at him.
“I can’t,” he said simply.
My fists clenched. “Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”
He stopped walking. I made the mistake of glancing at him. His expression was unreadable, but his silver eyes burned with an intensity that rooted me to the ground.
“What I want,” he said slowly, “is to keep you alive.”
I almost laughed at his words. Keep me alive? As if he wasn’t the very reason my nerves were frayed and my heart pounded like I’d been running for miles.
But he wasn’t joking. His expression stayed calm, steady, and unbearably serious.
“You don’t even know me,” I snapped.
He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth tightening. “You’re wrong. I know you better than anyone else ever will.”
Anger flared hot through me, burning away the chill that had clung to me since last night. “You’re insane. You show up out of nowhere, you stalk me, you—” My voice cracked as the memory of the truck rushed back, headlights blinding, his arms pulling me to safety.
“You saved me,” I admitted reluctantly, my voice barely above a whisper.
His silver eyes softened, though the fire in them didn’t fade. “I will always save you.”
The certainty in his tone made my chest tighten. I hated the way it affected me, hated the way his presence wrapped around me like an invisible net I couldn’t escape.
“Why?” I demanded. “Why me?”
For the first time, he looked away. His gaze swept across the campus, then returned to me, heavier now, sharp as a blade pressed to my skin.
“Because it’s written,” he said quietly.
I blinked. “Written? What are you talking about?”
He stepped closer, and even though I wanted to move back, my feet betrayed me and stayed rooted. His voice lowered, almost like a confession.
“I see the threads of what will happen. Paths, choices, deaths. They’ve haunted me my whole life. And every vision, every possibility…” His jaw tightened, a flicker of anguish crossing his features. “They all lead to you.”
“This is crazy,” I said, shaking my head, forcing out a laugh that cracked halfway. “You expect me to believe you can… see the future?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slipped a hand into his jacket and drew out something small. A folded piece of paper. He handed it to me without a word.
Suspicion knotted my stomach, but I opened it anyway.
My blood went cold.
It was a sketch of last night—the library doors, the courtyard, the truck barreling down the street. And me, frozen in the headlights, moments before the impact.
I stared at the page, my fingers trembling. “How…”
“I told you.” His voice was low, unshakable. “I saw it. And I stopped it.”
I shoved the paper back at him like it burned. “You could’ve drawn this after it happened.”
His lips twitched, not into a smile but into something darker. “Do you really believe that?”
I hated that doubt crept in, a crack in the wall I was trying so hard to hold.
I spun on my heel and walked fast, needing distance, needing air. But of course, he followed. Always a step behind, always close enough that his presence pressed against my back like a shadow I couldn’t shake.
“You can’t just decide this for me,” I snapped over my shoulder. “You can’t claim me like I’m some… prophecy, or whatever game you’re playing.”
“Elena.” My name in his voice stopped me cold. I spun around, fury surging through me, hotter than the fear.
“You don’t own me,” I spat.
Something flickered across his face—pain, regret. Then it was gone, replaced by steel.
“I don’t want to own you,” he said softly. “But I can’t let you go. Not when I’ve seen what happens if I do.”
My chest rose and fell too quickly. “And what exactly happens?”
He stepped closer, close enough that the rest of the world seemed to blur. His silver eyes locked onto mine, unrelenting, pulling me under like deep water.
“You die,” he whispered.
The word hit harder than any threat. It stole the air from my lungs, left me frozen, heart thundering in my ears.
Around us, students hurried past, laughing, talking, living their ordinary lives. None of them noticed the way my world had just splintered in two words.
And none of them knew the terrifying truth—that a stranger with silver eyes had already tied my life to his.
- Writer
