Someone is looking

"Obsession isn't always violent. Sometimes it's careful."

Hello Bl lovers (like me).I tried to write a novel for the first time.I hope you'll like it.And will absolutely Love it ❤️ ❤️

So let's start

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The city never truly slept.

It only learned how to whisper after midnight.

Moon liked that.

The night café sat at the edge of a narrow street-dim lights, cracked glass windows, the smell of burnt coffee and rain-soaked asphalt. It wasn't a place people came to dream.

It was a place they came to forget.

Moon fit right in.

"Two black coffees. Extra sugar."

Moon smiled as he took the order, fingers moving quickly, naturally.

"Coming right up."

He moved easily behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, white hair tucked messily under a cap. There was something soft about him-his smile, the way he spoke, the way he listened.

Customers noticed. They always did.

"You work too hard for a place like this," one man said lazily from the counter, eyes lingering too long.

Moon laughed lightly, practiced.

"Hard work pays better than luck."

Someone whistled. Someone else chuckled.

Moon didn't mind. Words were easy. Words didn't hurt.

The café filled and emptied in waves-office workers escaping silence, men who smelled of smoke and money, strangers with sharp eyes and quieter voices. Moon served them all the same way. Polite. Gentle.

Unmemorable.

That was how he survived.

Outside, rain began to fall.

Moon wiped down the counter, humming under his breath, when the door opened.

The bell rang once.

He didn't look up immediately.

Still-something shifted.

Not fear. Not danger. Just a quiet awareness, like realizing someone had been standing nearby for a while.

The man who stepped inside didn't draw attention. Dark coat. Neutral posture. He didn't rush to sit. He didn't scan the room like a predator. He simply stood there, as if counting exits out of habit.

Moon felt no tightening in his chest.

That alone surprised him.

"Welcome," Moon said. "What can I get you?"

The man's gaze met his briefly-then moved away.

"Nothing," the man said. "Just passing through."

Moon nodded and returned to his work, expecting the man to leave.

He didn't.

When Moon glanced up again, the man was closer to the counter now-not watching, not staring. Just present.

"You should be careful," the man said quietly.

The man seemed to reconsider, as if he'd already said more than intended.

Moon blinked. "About what?"

"Places like this... they have a way of remembering people."

Moon frowned slightly. "I don't do anything worth remembering."

I make sure of that,he thought

The man's lips twitched-not a smile.

Not quite.

Moon waited for something else-a threat, a demand, curiosity-but the man said nothing more. He stepped back, already turning toward the door.

As he passed, his voice came low and even.

"Take care of yourself."

Then he was gone.

The bell rang again.

Moon stood still for a moment longer than necessary.

Something about the man's voice stayed with him-not the words, but the certainty behind them. As if he hadn't been warning Moon.

As if he'd been confirming something.

Moon glanced down at the counter.

There was a folded receipt where the man had been standing.

Moon frowned. He was certain the man hadn't ordered anything.

He picked it up.

No total. No items.

Just a time written neatly at the bottom.

02:40 a.m.

Moon checked the clock behind him.

02:41.

A strange chill crept up his spine.

"That's... weird," he muttered, slipping the receipt into his pocket before he could overthink it.

The rest of the night passed quietly. Too quietly.

When Moon finally locked up and stepped outside, the rain had stopped.

The street was empty-but the air still felt watched, like a room someone had just left.

Halfway home, Moon slowed.

He had the sudden, unsettling thought that if he turned around-

Someone would already be gone.

He didn't look.

At home, he emptied his pockets before bed.

Keys. Phone. Receipt.

The paper was still there.

But the time was gone.

In its place, a single line had been written in careful ink:

"If you are in danger I'll save you again."

Moon's breath caught.

Somewhere else in the city, a man closed a file and leaned back.

"Find Him," he ordered.

Moon was alive.

Working.

Unaware.

For now, that was enough.

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