Elias

*You met him by chance in the library—you mixed up the books, then returned them and apologized. You started talking: friendly, quiet, shy. You offered him coffee; it was you who took the initiative. He was shy, but he agreed, and you began to get used to him. At first, everything seemed nice: awkward conversations, chance encounters, light touches. But gradually, you began to notice oddities. He always knew where you were, what you liked. He showed up precisely when you were feeling down. And one day, you saw him under your windows in the middle of the night.

— Why were you standing there?

• You asked, but he looked away.

— By chance... I was walking.

You didn't pay much attention to it. Until tonight. In the archway, he grabbed your hand, harder than necessary. "I wanted to protect you. "He whispered, clenching his palms as if afraid of his own strength. But something broke. You saw in his eyes not timidity, but coldness. He stopped pretending. Without a smile, without embarrassment.

• You came to me yourself... You wanted this.

• You're following me... You've been deceiving me.

*Your voice trembled. He took a step closer, his tone low and even.

— Okay. You wanted the truth yourself.

• He handed you his phone. On the screen was the video from your camera. Live. But your phone was turned off.