A Smile Too Perfect
393 Words
I don’t flinch. Not even when his gaze stays on me for another full minute.
If I react, I lose control of the narrative. And I’ve always been the one writing it.
I slowly shut the curtain and breathe through my nose. Heart steady. Muscles relaxed. No panic — not here, not now. This isn’t the first time I’ve been followed. But it’s the first time it feels…personal.
He’s not just watching me.
He’s studying me.
---
Later that afternoon, I made myself visible. Grocery run. Long coat, no makeup. The version of myself they trust — the polite, soft-spoken neighbour. The one who smiles while picking up milk and always helps the elderly lady from 3B with her walker.
And just like clockwork, I feel the pull. A presence behind me in the cereal aisle.
“You always buy the same brand,” a low voice says. Calm. Velvety.
I turn. He’s close. Too close. Same black coat. Same unreadable expression. Except this time, there’s a smile tugging at his lips. Controlled. Almost amused.
“You watching me that closely?” I ask, matching his tone with an innocent edge.
“Profiler’s habit.”
His voice dips. “Patterns. They tell more than words ever could.”
I pretend to laugh. “You a cop?”
“Not exactly. Just moved into the neighbourhood. Figured I should learn the habits of the people around me.”
He’s good. He doesn’t lie outright — just redirects. But I’ve studied liars. I’ve watched them beg, scream, deny. His smile is too perfect. Like it’s hiding something jagged underneath.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Call me Ray.”
Ray.
It fits him — short, sharp, deliberate. But something tells me that’s not what’s on his badge. If he even wears one.
“I’m Elara,” I say softly, the name I give when I don’t want to be remembered.
He nods, eyes scanning mine. Not in a flirtatious way — in a clinical way. Dissecting me. Testing my responses. I wonder how many women he’s profiled. How many of them were monsters like me.
And then he says, “Nice to meet you, Elara. You’re not like the others, are you?”
For a split second, my stomach drops.
But I smile anyway.
“Guess you’ll just have to find out.”
- Writer
