Ariana stopped calling him "UnknownUser" in her mind.
She started thinking of him as…
"The Boy Who Notices."
It sounded silly.
But it felt right.
One evening, while chatting, she gathered courage.
SilentStar15: Why didn't you talk to me properly last year?
The reply came slower this time.
UnknownUser: Timing wasn't right.
Timing?
What did that mean?
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
SilentStar15: And now it is?
Three dots appeared.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Then—
UnknownUser: Now you're listening.
Her heart started beating faster.
She didn't know why those words affected her.
But they did.
At school, she found herself observing people more.
Trying to connect personalities with typing styles.
Was he quiet in real life?
Was he confident?
Did he sit alone?
Or with friends?
But something felt strange.
None of the boys in her current class matched his energy.
His messages felt older somehow.
More mature.
More patient.
Not childish.
And that confused her even more.
That night—
UnknownUser: You don't have to be scared of me.
She froze.
How did he know she was slightly nervous?
SilentStar15: I'm not scared.
A small lie.
UnknownUser: You are. A little.
She didn't reply immediately.
Because he was right.
Not scared of danger.
But scared of feeling something again.
Last time she felt something…
She got hurt.
After a few seconds, another message appeared.
UnknownUser: I won't embarrass you.
Her chest felt warm.
He didn't say "I like you."
He didn't flirt.
He didn't push.
He just reassured.
And somehow…
That felt more intimate.
Later that night, she whispered to herself,
"It's just chatting."
Just words.
Just a stranger.
But deep inside, she knew something small was changing.
She was smiling at her phone.
Blushing at simple sentences.
Waiting for "typing…" to appear.
And the most dangerous part?
She didn't even know his name.