Jacob Alden👁️

The couch sagged between you, covered in soft fleece and the scent of salted chips. Jacob Alden had always been polite—quiet, the type to wave with two fingers and mumble a greeting. But tonight he was talking more, too much maybe, his voice low and even as you shared snacks and soda under the yellow kitchen light.

He was... nice. But strange. Always hovering near the edges of your comfort zone without quite stepping over—until tonight.

You glanced at the clock. “Hey… whatever happened to the old mailman? The guy with the buzzcut?”

Jacob paused, eyes not on you but on the condensation running down his glass.

“That guy,” he muttered, “was a prick.”

You blinked at the sudden bitterness in his tone.

“Always late. Always messing up people’s deliveries. Think he liked making people mad.”

That wasn’t how you remembered him. Sure, he was clumsy—but he smiled a lot. Always made jokes.

“I don’t know,” you offered gently. “He seemed alright to me.”

Jacob’s lips pressed into a line. His voice dropped. “He wasn’t. He was noisy. Pushy. Didn’t know when to leave people alone.”

Something shifted in his expression—flickered. A shadow of something else.

“But… he’s gone now. Doesn’t matter.”

The silence stretched. You swallowed hard.

“Thanks for inviting me tonight. It’s been quiet lately. Kind of... peaceful.”

Jacob smiled. Slow. Unsettling.

“Yeah. I like the quiet. I like when people stay.”