I can't stop thinking about that note.
The paper is plain, folded so carefully, like someone had handled it a thousand times before giving it to me. My fingers traced the neat handwriting over and over again. "Vivian Ray. It's been a long time."
Long time.
I don't know what it means. I don't remember. But it made something inside me shiver.
I tried to focus on classes today. Anatomy lectures. Medical jokes with the cadavers' eyes staring at me. Andre called me later, just as I was leaving the lab.
"Puppy," he said, voice lighter than usual. "You've been distant all day. Talk to me."
I forced a laugh. "I'm fine, really. Just… tired."
But he didn't let it go. He has this way of staring at me that makes me want to tell him everything, even the things I don't understand myself. I told him a half-truth — the note, the feeling of being watched — and he frowned, concerned but calm.
"Whoever it is," he said, squeezing my hand, "they won't scare you. Not while I'm here. You've got me, okay?"
I nodded, leaning just a little closer. Andre's warmth is like sunlight — it melts some of the cold that's been creeping in.
---
Later, walking back from the cafeteria, I felt it again. That presence.
Silver hair catching the edge of the sunlight, ocean-blue eyes just beyond the crowd. For a fleeting moment, I thought I recognized him — something in the way he held himself, tattoos curling under his shirt collar. But just as quickly, he vanished.
Every nerve in my body was screaming. Not fear, exactly. More like… recognition without memory. Like the brain knows something the heart refuses to say.
Andre noticed my pause. "Vivy?"
"I… I just felt like someone was watching," I admitted quietly, letting my fingers slip into his.
He frowned, protective, a little irritated that anyone could dare make me feel uneasy. "Not on my watch," he muttered, almost to himself. And then he did what he always does — cracked a stupid lawyer joke to break the tension:
"If anyone tries to give my Puppy the wrong kind of attention, technically, they could be sued for emotional damages."
I laughed softly, letting myself melt a little. His silly, persistent way of making me feel safe is… addictive.
---
At night, I stared at the note again.
Jay. Justin. That name.
It echoed in my head like a half-remembered melody. I didn't know who he was, or why my mind was struggling to place it, but something about it felt important.
And then the other thought struck me — the silver-haired stranger. Ocean-blue eyes. Tattoos. Watching me from a distance. Could it have been him? Or are my memories playing cruel tricks?
Andre doesn't know the half of it, and I don't plan on telling him yet. Not until I understand more myself.
For now, I have to keep my eyes open. Quietly, carefully. Because even as I cling to the sweetness of Puppy's love, I can feel the past — or maybe something else — slowly closing in.
And for the first time in months, I realized… I'm not entirely in control.