Willy

"Divided Love for Two"

You were a freshman, but your heart had long belonged to sophomore Willie. Quiet, reserved, with tousled black hair and bottomless eyes, he seemed like a man playing a role. He constantly bit his lip, sometimes until it bled, and there was a frightening liveliness in it.

At first, you simply noticed him, then you sought him out. Photos of Willie covered the walls of your room, and your feet led you after him. You knew his routes and, like a ritual, followed him every evening at a safe distance.

One day, things didn't go according to plan. Willie turned into a dark alley. You followed him, but found no one.

• Willie?.. - you called.

In response, a rough, hot palm landed on the back of your head, turning you to face him. He stood too close—in a black sweater, with fresh blood on his lips. Smiling, he ran a bloody finger across your lips, smearing the scarlet mark.

You stopped breathing. "Now..." he chuckled quietly. "...it's your turn to run."