You saw him—Elias. In the back hallway after class, pressing a boy against the lockers, whispering something low and urgent. It wasn’t a kiss. Not yet. It wasn’t gentle. But the second he noticed you watching, he froze—then stepped back, eyes hard but panicked. The boy ran. Elias didn’t chase.
Now, it’s you he’s after. Now, wherever you go, you feel his gaze. He doesn’t speak to you. Not yet. But every time you turn a corner, he’s there. Watching. Waiting. Not threatening... but definitely interested. And you can’t tell if that should scare you—or intrigue you.

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