He Was Watching

Chapter 1 He Was Watching

Rain poured like it was trying to wash the city clean of its sins.

It never worked.

The streets still smelled like smoke, secrets, and something darker—something that clung to your skin if you stayed out too long. I pulled my hoodie tighter around me, stepping over a puddle that reflected the flickering neon lights above.

I hated nights like this.

They felt… watched.

“You’re overthinking again,” I muttered under my breath, gripping my bag a little tighter as I walked faster.

The café shift had ended late. Too late.

And now the streets were empty.

No cars.

No people.

Just the sound of rain and my own footsteps echoing louder than they should.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I stopped.

The sound stopped too.

A chill ran down my spine.

Slowly, I turned my head, scanning the street behind me. Nothing. Just the same broken streetlight buzzing and the dark alley beside it.

“See? Nothing,” I whispered, forcing a small laugh.

Still, something didn’t feel right.

I started walking again—faster this time.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

There it was again.

My heart started pounding.

“Okay… okay, just keep going.”

I didn’t look back this time. I couldn’t.

Because deep down, I already knew.

Someone was there.

Watching.

Following.

The thought made my skin crawl.

I turned the corner toward my apartment building, relief flooding through me when I saw the dim yellow light above the entrance.

“Almost there,” I breathed.

My steps quickened, keys already in my hand.

But just as I reached the door—

A hand grabbed my wrist.

I gasped, my body freezing instantly.

Warm.

Firm.

Unyielding.

My breath caught in my throat as I slowly turned.

And then…

I saw him.

Dark hair, damp from the rain, falling over sharp, unreadable eyes. His face was half-shadowed, but I could still see the faint smirk playing on his lips.

He looked… calm.

Too calm.

Like this—grabbing a stranger in the middle of the night—was nothing.

“Going somewhere?” he asked softly.

His voice was low.

Dangerously low.

“I—” My voice shook. “Let go of me.”

He didn’t.

Instead, his grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me that I couldn’t pull away.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said.

My blood ran cold.

“What?”

His gaze didn’t leave mine. Not for a second.

“Every night,” he continued, tilting his head slightly. “Same time. Same route. Same nervous little glances over your shoulder.”

My stomach dropped.

“You’re sick,” I snapped, trying to yank my hand free. “Let go!”

This time, he did.

But only because he chose to.

I stumbled back, putting distance between us immediately.

“Stay away from me,” I warned, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound strong.

He just watched me.

Like I was something interesting.

Something… his.

“You should be more careful,” he said casually, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Walking alone like this.”

“I don’t need your advice,” I shot back.

A faint chuckle left his lips.

“You will.”

The way he said it made my chest tighten.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

Instead, I turned quickly, unlocking the door with shaking hands and slipping inside. I slammed it shut behind me, locking it immediately.

Only then did I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“What the hell was that…?” I whispered.

My hands were still shaking.

My heart still racing.

And worst of all…

I could still feel his touch on my wrist.

—

Upstairs, inside my apartment, I leaned against the door, trying to calm myself down.

“It’s fine,” I told myself. “Just some creep. You’re okay.”

But the words felt empty.

Because something about him…

Wasn’t normal.

I pushed the thought away, forcing myself to move. I needed a shower. Needed to wash off the feeling of his eyes on me.

The hot water helped.

A little.

But not enough.

Because even as I stood there, eyes closed, trying to relax—

I felt it again.

That same, suffocating feeling.

Like someone was watching me.

I snapped my eyes open.

Nothing.

Just the bathroom.

Just me.

“Stop it,” I muttered.

You’re imagining things.

You have to be.

—

Later that night, I sat on my bed, scrolling mindlessly through my phone, trying to distract myself.

It wasn’t working.

Every little sound made me jump.

Every shadow felt too dark.

And my mind kept replaying his words.

I’ve been watching you.

A shiver ran down my spine.

“Nope. Not thinking about it.”

I tossed my phone aside and pulled the blanket over myself, turning off the light.

Darkness filled the room.

Minutes passed.

Then—

A soft sound.

Click.

My eyes snapped open.

“What was that…?”

Silence.

I held my breath, listening.

Nothing.

Maybe it was just the building.

Yeah.

It had to be.

Still…

Slowly, I sat up.

And that’s when I saw it.

My window.

Slightly open.

My heart stopped.

“I… I closed that.”

I knew I did.

I always did.

Carefully, I stood up, my feet moving toward it like I didn’t have control over my own body.

Each step felt heavier than the last.

The curtain swayed slightly with the night breeze.

And then—

A voice.

Right behind me.

“You shouldn’t leave things open.”

I screamed.

Spinning around so fast I nearly fell.

And there he was.

Inside my apartment.

Leaning casually against the wall like he belonged there.

My breath came out in short, panicked gasps.

“How did you—?!”

“Window,” he said simply, glancing toward it.

Like it was obvious.

Like breaking into someone’s home was nothing.

“Get out,” I whispered, backing away.

He didn’t move.

Instead, he pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer.

I took one back.

“Please,” I added, my voice shaking now. “Just leave.”

His eyes softened.

Just a little.

But it didn’t make him less terrifying.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why?!”

A pause.

Then—

“Because you’re mine.”

The words hit me like a slap.

“No, I’m not!”

He smiled.

Slow.

Dark.

Certain.

“You just don’t know it yet.”

My pulse thundered in my ears.

This wasn’t real.

This couldn’t be real.

“You’re crazy,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

His smile widened.

“I know.”

Another step closer.

I hit the wall.

Nowhere left to go.

He raised his hand slowly.

I flinched.

But instead of hurting me…

He gently tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

The softness of the gesture made it worse.

Much worse.

“I don’t hurt what’s mine,” he murmured.

My breath hitched.

“Then let me go,” I pleaded.

For a moment…

He just looked at me.

Like he was considering it.

Like he could.

But then he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper against my ear.

“I told you,” he said. “I don’t share.”

A shiver ran through me.

Fear.

Cold.

Unavoidable.

Because deep down…

I knew.

This wasn’t the end.

This was just the beginning.

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