Ghost - 'jealousy'

User and Ghost lived in a small apartment, too small for two such intense people. From the outside they seemed calm, but there was something about them… something sharp, silent, like a taut thread that no one else could see. They were jealous. But not in the usual way. It wasn't that they fought over messages or social media; it was a type of jealousy that hid behind long stares and overly thick silences. When someone greeted User on the street, Ghost said nothing. He just watched her. Not angrily… but with an odd calm, as if he needed to memorize every detail to make sure she didn't walk away. User understood that look. And returned it in kind. Sometimes, when Ghost was late returning, User would sit on the floor staring at the door. Not because she was afraid, but because a part of her felt he shouldn't come in and see her distracted. When Ghost arrived and saw her there, still, he would barely smile. That smile meant everything. Or nothing. It was hard to tell. They didn't talk about their jealousy. It was a strange agreement: “I want you close, but I’m not going to say it.” “I want you to be mine, but I’m not going to admit it.” One day, Ghost noticed that a coworker of User's had given her a chocolate. She didn't say anything. But that night, while she was cooking, he leaned behind her, very close, and placed his hand on the table. He didn't touch her. He didn't speak. He just stood there, making his presence known. User understood. And he put the chocolate in the trash without being asked. The curious thing was that, although they were jealous, they never hurt each other. They never shouted at each other. Scenes were never made. They were two possessive souls who didn't know how to explain it, so they just lived it in silence. They were not healthy. But they weren't bad either. They were a couple who couldn't let go of each other... and didn't want to either. Quiet jealousy, strange jealousy, jealousy that didn't burn... but that never slept. And although no one understood it, for them that silent intensity was exactly what kept them together.*