"Still the same…"
I watched the screen in silence, leaning back slightly in the darkness.
He sat there, scrolling through his laptop, opening and closing tabs one after another—like he was searching for something he couldn't name.
A faint smile touched my lips.
"You always do this…"
My gaze lingered on him, steady, unblinking.
Restless.
Impatient.
Frustrated.
Just like before.
He paused for a second, staring at the screen as if the answer would appear if he waited long enough.
It didn't.
Of course it wouldn't.
"…You won't find it there."
My fingers tapped lightly against the keyboard in front of me.
A small interruption—barely noticeable.
The cursor on his screen froze.
Then moved.
Not by his hand.
I let out a quiet breath, almost amused.
"Let's see how long it takes you to notice…"
He froze.
Not completely—
just enough.
His movements slowed, fingers hovering over the keyboard like he wasn't sure what had just happened.
I leaned back slightly, watching him through the screen.
"…You felt that."
A faint smile formed.
Good.
He didn't move for a few seconds.
Just stared.
Thinking.
Trying to make sense of something that didn't belong.
Then—
He moved again.
Slower now.
Careful.
Testing the cursor like it might betray him again.
I let it respond normally.
For now.
Let him doubt himself first.
"…Still trying to convince yourself it's nothing?"
My fingers tapped lightly against the desk, a quiet rhythm in the silence.
He opened another tab.
Closed it.
Opened something else.
Restless.
Just like always.
A soft breath escaped me.
"…You never had patience."
I tilted my head slightly, eyes narrowing just a fraction.
Let's see how long you last this time.
Another small interference—
This time slower.
The cursor dragged… just a little behind his movement.
Delayed.
Off.
Enough to feel wrong.
He stopped again.
Longer this time.
The silence stretched.
His shoulders stiffened slightly.
There it is.
Not fear.
Awareness.
I smiled faintly.
"…That's better."
I didn't move from my spot.
No need.
Not yet.
This wasn't the moment to reveal myself.
Not when he was just starting to notice.
My gaze stayed on him, steady, patient—
waiting.
Watching.
Hunting.
He stopped.
Not suddenly—
but enough for the change to feel… wrong.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
There it is.
His fingers hovered above the keyboard, unmoving now.
The screen still glowed in front of him—
but his attention wasn't on it anymore.
It shifted.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Around the room.
A faint smile crept onto my lips.
"…You feel it."
He leaned back just slightly, like he was trying to listen to something that didn't have a sound.
His brows drew together.
Not fear.
Not yet.
But something close.
He stood up.
The chair scraped softly against the floor.
Too loud in the silence.
My gaze followed him—steady, unblinking.
He took a step forward.
Then another.
Straight toward it.
My fingers went still.
Completely.
For a moment—
even I didn't move.
"…Go on."
He stopped just short of the corner.
Close.
Too close.
If he looked up—
just a little—
A pause.
His hand lifted.
Slowly.
Like he was about to reach for something he couldn't see—
but somehow knew was there.
My gaze sharpened.
This close…
And then—
He stopped.
Just like that.
His hand dropped.
A small frown replaced that sharp focus.
Doubt.
I exhaled quietly, the tension easing just enough to turn into amusement.
"…Not yet."
He stepped back.
Once.
Twice.
And just like that—
he let it go.
Wrong choice.
A faint chuckle slipped past my lips.
Low.
Quiet.
"You were so close."
My eyes didn't leave him.
Not for a second.
"…But you always stop right before the answer."
He didn't sit back down.
Good.
I watched him linger there, hesitation clinging to every movement.
That unease—
It suited him.
"…Don't stop now."
My fingers moved lightly over the keyboard.
A small shift—barely anything.
The lights flickered.
Once.
He stilled.
Completely.
Silence fell again.
Thick.
Heavy.
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
"There it is…"
He turned this time.
Slowly—
scanning the room again, sharper now.
Better.
I let a few seconds pass.
Long enough for him to start thinking.
Doubting.
Then—
A soft creak echoed from downstairs.
Not loud.
Just enough.
His head snapped toward the door.
My smile deepened.
"Come on…"
I stepped back into the shadows of the storeroom, silent as ever, eyes still fixed on the screen.
Waiting.
A second passed.
Then another.
He moved.
Slow at first—
cautious—
but curiosity always won with him.
It always did.
"…That's right."
I watched as he reached the door, pausing only briefly before stepping out into the hallway.
My fingers tapped once more.
Another sound.
This time—closer.
A drawer shifting open downstairs.
He froze again.
Listening.
Good.
I leaned slightly against the wall, completely at ease.
"Let's see…"
A quiet breath left me, almost amused.
"…how far you're willing to follow."
He hesitated at the top of the stairs.
Good.
Right above me.
A faint smile formed as I leaned back slightly in the darkness of the storeroom.
So close… and he still had no idea.
"…Come on."
My fingers tapped once against the desk.
A soft sound echoed from below—
from right beneath him.
He froze.
I could almost picture it—
the way his expression tightened, the way his body stilled.
"There it is…"
He took a step down.
Slow.
Careful.
Each step brought him closer.
To me.
The distance between us shrank with every movement—
until—
He stopped.
Right above the storeroom.
My gaze darkened slightly.
"…So you can feel it."
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Just a thin layer of floor between us.
One step more—
one wrong move—
And he might actually find me.
My fingers stilled.
"…Not yet."
A quiet breath left me.
He was right there.
Close enough to find me—
if he only took one more step.
But he didn't.
Of course he didn't.
A faint smile slowly returned.
That hesitation—
that instinct to stop right before the truth—
It hadn't changed at all.
That was far more interesting.
"Run if you want…"
My voice dropped to a whisper, barely there.
"…I'm closer than you think."
He didn't leave.
That alone was enough to make me pause.
Most people would have walked away by now—
brushed it off, convinced themselves it was nothing.
But not him.
My gaze sharpened slightly.
He stepped closer to the door again.
Slower this time.
More careful.
"…You never learn."
His hand lifted—
hesitant, yet drawn forward like something unseen was pulling him back.
The handle was right there.
Just a small push.
I didn't move.
Not a single sound.
Let him come.
His fingers curled around it.
A pause.
The air felt tight again—
waiting.
"…Go on."
The slightest shift—
the door almost—
"Meow."
His hand stopped.
My eyes narrowed faintly.
Slowly, he turned his head.
The cat brushed against his leg, tail flicking lightly as if nothing in the world was wrong.
The tension broke.
Just like that.
His grip loosened.
The handle slipped from his hand.
I exhaled quietly through my nose.
"…Unlucky."
He crouched slightly, attention shifting away—
completely.
The door remained closed.
My gaze lingered on it for a moment longer…
then returned to him.
A faint smile formed again.
"Another time."
His attention shifted so easily.
From the door—
to that small, dark creature brushing against him like it belonged there.
My gaze followed the movement.
From him—
to the cat.
A quiet sigh slipped past my lips.
"…Of all things."
The cat circled his legs once, tail curling lazily, completely unaware of what it had just interrupted.
Or maybe—
not so unaware.
My eyes lingered on it a second longer than necessary.
Black.
Small.
Familiar.
A faint flicker crossed my gaze—gone just as quickly.
"…You kept it."
The words were barely a whisper.
Not meant for him.
Not meant for anyone.
Just… there.
My fingers tapped once against the desk, slower now.
Time had passed.
A lot of it.
And yet—
some things didn't change.
My gaze returned to him.
He crouched slightly, distracted, his hand absentmindedly resting on the cat's head.
Just like before.
A faint smile formed—quieter this time.
"…Still drawn to what was given to you."
My eyes darkened slightly, something unreadable settling beneath the surface.
The cat didn't leave.
If anything—
it moved closer.
Pressing against him like it belonged there.
My gaze darkened slightly.
"…Of course."
He didn't push it away.
Didn't even hesitate.
His hand rested on its head—
fingers brushing through its fur absentmindedly.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
The cat leaned into his touch, eyes half-lidded, utterly content.
Like it had always been his.
My jaw tightened—just slightly.
"…You've gotten comfortable."
The words were quiet.
Flat.
But something underneath them… wasn't.
My fingers stilled against the desk.
No rhythm this time.
Just silence.
I watched the way it stayed close to him—
how easily it fit there.
How naturally he let it.
A faint smile touched my lips—
but it didn't reach my eyes.
"…That spot isn't yours."
The air felt colder somehow.
Tighter.
My gaze didn't leave them.
Not for a second.
"…Move."
The word wasn't spoken louder—
but it carried weight.
Not a request.
Not even irritation.
Something quieter.
Sharper.
Possessive.
The cat didn't understand.
Of course it didn't.
It only leaned closer—
curling against him like it had every right to be there.
My eyes narrowed.
A slow breath left me.
"…You really don't know your place."
The faintest tilt of my head—
thoughtful.
Dangerous.
But I didn't move.
Not yet.
Let it stay.
For now.
My gaze shifted back to him—
lingering longer this time.
The cat…
could wait.
He smiled.
Not fully—
just enough to soften his face.
My expression didn't change.
He sat down on the stairs, slow and unaware—
pulling the cat into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.
My gaze followed every movement.
His fingers slid under its chin—
scratching lightly.
The cat leaned into him immediately.
Content.
Comfortable.
My jaw tightened.
"…You look happy."
The words were quiet.
Almost thoughtful.
But something underneath them twisted—slow and sharp.
He adjusted it slightly in his lap, absentminded, gentle—
like he had done it a thousand times before.
My fingers curled faintly against the edge of the desk.
"…That easily?"
A faint breath left me—low, controlled.
Watching him like this—
relaxed, distracted, his attention somewhere else—
It didn't sit well.
Not at all.
The cat purred softly, pressing closer under his touch.
My eyes darkened.
"…You're enjoying this."
Not a question.
My gaze lingered on the way his hand moved—
slow, gentle, patient.
A sharp contrast to everything else about him.
"…You never had that kind of patience."
The faintest smile touched my lips again—
thinner this time.
Cold.
"…Not for me."
Silence settled again—
heavier now.
My eyes flicked back to the cat.
Still there.
Still in his lap.
Still taking what wasn't meant for it.
A slow breath in.
Then out.
"…You've gotten bold."
My fingers tapped once—
just once.
The lights flickered.
Subtle.
Controlled.
The cat stilled for a split second.
My gaze sharpened.
"…Good."
A faint smile returned—
darker now.
"At least one of you can feel it."
He didn't move for a while.
Just sat there—
with that thing in his lap.
My gaze didn't leave him.
Not once.
His fingers kept moving—slow, absentminded—
tracing along its fur like it was enough to keep him grounded.
"…Still distracting yourself."
A faint exhale left me.
It almost worked.
Almost.
My eyes shifted—just slightly—toward the door above me.
That thin barrier.
That one moment he almost crossed.
"…You were close."
Too close.
My fingers tapped once against the desk—
slower this time.
The house responded.
Not from below—
but behind him.
His hand stilled on the cat.
Good.
My gaze sharpened.
"…Don't relax yet."
Another sound—
faint, dragging—
from the hallway above.
Just enough to feel wrong.
He turned slightly this time.
Not fully.
But enough.
The cat shifted in his lap.
My attention flicked to it instantly.
"…Now you feel it."
Its body tensed—just a little—
ears twitching toward the direction of the sound.
A slow smile formed.
"Good."
Let it react.
Let him notice.
My gaze returned to him—
watching every small change.
His fingers slowed.
Not as calm now.
Not as steady.
"…There it is."
That hesitation.
That quiet shift between comfort—
and doubt.
I leaned back slightly in the darkness, completely at ease.
"…You can't ignore it forever."
Silence stretched again.
Thick.
Waiting.
My fingers hovered—
then pressed lightly.
The light above him flickered once more.
This time—longer.
The shadows shifted.
My voice dropped, softer now—
almost a murmur lost in the air.
"…Come a little closer."
The cat shifted.
Then—just like that—
it slipped out of his lap.
My gaze followed it instantly.
It landed softly on the step below—
paused—
then walked away.
Not toward me.
Toward his room.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Leaving?"
The warmth around him faded with it.
The small distraction—gone.
And now—
it was just him.
Sitting there.
Right above me.
Silence settled again.
Thicker this time.
He didn't move.
Not immediately.
My gaze stayed fixed on the spot right above—
tracking even the smallest shift in his weight.
"…You're still here."
A quiet breath left me—
slower now.
He leaned forward slightly.
Just enough.
My fingers stilled completely.
"…Thinking again."
Good.
That hesitation—
that pull—
it hadn't left him.
My jaw tightened faintly.
"…Then come down."
The words were barely a whisper.
Not meant to be heard.
But meant.
Seconds passed.
Too slow.
My fingers curled against the wooden frame.
This waiting—
it was starting to wear thin.
"…Tch."
Enough.
I stood up silently, movements controlled—
but not as patient as before.
One step closer to the door.
Then another.
Until I was right beneath it.
My hand lifted—
hovering just inches from the wood.
He was right there.
Sitting.
Unaware.
My control wavered—just slightly.
"…You're making this difficult."
A faint smile returned—thin, restrained.
I stayed there.
Hidden.
Listening.
Waiting.
One small movement—
from either side—
and this would end.
But not yet.
He moved.
Finally.
The soft sound of the cat's meow pulled him away—
just enough.
I felt it before I heard it—
the slight shift in weight above me.
Wood creaked softly.
He stood up.
My gaze lifted instinctively toward the ceiling—
tracking him without seeing.
"…So you chose that instead."
A quiet breath left me.
Not the door.
Not the truth.
The distraction.
Again.
My fingers relaxed against the wood.
The moment had passed.
But something else had taken its place.
My eyes darkened slightly.
The faint rhythm of his steps shifted—
moving away from the stairs.
"…You're walking away from me."
The words were quiet.
Flat.
But something underneath them tightened.
I didn't wait this time.
The door opened soundlessly beneath my hand.
Just enough.
I stepped out—
silent as the shadows clinging to the walls.
The hallway stretched ahead.
And there he was—
walking toward his room.
Completely unaware.
A faint smile formed.
"…Careless."
My steps were slow.
Measured.
Each one closing the distance between us.
No sound.
No warning.
Just… closer.
I took silent steps as the distance between us disappeared.
Just like that—
I was right behind him.
He froze at my sudden presence, his body going rigid.
A faint smile formed on my lips.
"Don't try to run…" I said slowly.
"It's useless."
I lifted my hands—slow, steady—moving toward his waist.
Just before I could grab him, he slipped away.
My fingers closed around nothing but air.
My eyes narrowed, quietly tracking his movements.
He ran straight to his room without looking back.
I followed.
Not hurried—
but not slow either.
He grabbed his phone in a rush, his hands unsteady now—
but before the screen could brighten, I moved.
Fast.
The phone slipped from his grip—
and into mine.
The smile never left my lips.
"Calling that dear friend of yours…?"
My voice dropped slightly.
"…Do you really think he can help you?"
He looked at me then—
not just startled,
not just confused—
but truly shaken.
That look…
lingered.
I stepped closer.
Slow.
Deliberate.
He reacted instantly.
His hands pushed against me—hard—
trying to force distance between us,
trying to break past me—
but I caught his wrist midway.
Firm.
"Still choosing someone else?"
A quiet murmur.
He struggled harder—
breath uneven now, movements sharp—
and I let him.
For a moment.
Just to feel it.
Then I pulled him in.
"Look at you…"
My voice lowered—controlled, but no longer as calm—
"…running again."
"Let go—!"
"No."
Simple.
Final.
His resistance spiked—
twisting, pushing, trying to turn away—
but my grip only tightened enough to stop him.
Not hurting.
Just inescapable.
My fingers slid from his wrist to his jaw, steadying him when he tried to look away.
"…Do you even realize,"
my voice dropped—quieter now, rougher—
"…how long I've waited for this?"
He stilled—
just for a second.
That was enough.
I pulled him closer.
He reacted instantly—
struggling harder, turning his face away, pushing against me—
but I didn't let go.
Not this time.
My grip tightened just enough to hold him in place—
not hurting—
just… inescapable.
"…Always running."
My voice was quieter now.
Rougher.
My fingers held his jaw steady—
forcing just enough space—
and then—
I closed the distance.
The kiss wasn't gentle.
It wasn't rushed either.
It pressed in with restrained force—like something held back for far too long finally slipping through control.
He resisted immediately—hands pushing against me, breath breaking—trying to pull away—
but I held him there, steady, unyielding—
just long enough for it to deepen—
just long enough to make escape impossible.
Years of restraint—
contained in a single moment.
Then—
I pulled back.
Slowly.
My gaze stayed locked onto his.
"…Still think you can run?"
I let go.
Just like that.
My hand fell away from him—
the space between us returning—
but he didn't move.
Not even a step.
He just stood there.
Still.
Too still.
My gaze stayed on him, sharp, unblinking.
His breathing was uneven.
His eyes—
unfocused.
Not looking at me anymore.
Good.
"…So it got to you."
A faint smile lingered—subtle, controlled.
But beneath that stillness—
I could see it.
The tension in his jaw.
The slight tremor in his hands.
Anger.
Quiet.
Held back.
But there.
"…That's better."
Then—
A sound.
Faint.
Outside.
My focus shifted instantly.
Headlights brushed faintly across the edge of the room.
A car.
My eyes narrowed.
"…Now?"
The timing—
irritating.
My posture straightened slightly, attention sharpening.
No panic.
Just calculation.
The laptop—
already handled.
Shut down.
Hidden.
Exactly where no one would find it.
Unless they knew where to look.
A faint exhale left me.
"…Good."
My gaze returned to him one last time.
Still frozen.
Still standing exactly where I left him.
"…We're not done."
Quiet.
Certain.
Not a threat.
A fact.
I stepped back.
One step.
Then another.
My movements silent again—
controlled—
like I had never been there.
By the time the car came to a full stop outside—
I was already gone.
The car door opened.
A pause—
then footsteps.
I didn't need to see.
"…Kevin."
Late.
My gaze shifted slightly toward the window, watching the faint movement of light outside.
"You took your time."
A quiet breath left me.
Two days.
It had only been two days—
since I pulled him out of their hands.
The memory lingered—
dim lights, blood, the suffocating weight of that place—
and him—
barely holding on.
My eyes darkened slightly.
"…And this is how you guard him?"
A faint, displeased edge slipped into my tone.
Letting him stay alone.
Unaware.
Vulnerable enough for me to walk in—
and out—
without resistance.
My fingers curled slightly at my side.
"Pathetic."
Another glance toward the room—
toward him.
Still inside.
Still shaken.
A faint smile returned.
"…You didn't change."
Not even after that.
Not even after everything.
The sound of the door outside grew clearer.
Closer.
Time was up.
I stepped back into the shadows without hesitation.
Silent.
Controlled.
"Next time…"
A low murmur slipped past my lips.
"…don't rely on someone else to save you."
And just like that—
I disappeared into the night.