Selene's POV
Over the next few days, I kept seeing him.
Sometimes at a distance, watching. Other times closer — too close.
Like when I left work late one night and spotted him across the street, standing beneath a streetlight as if waiting for something. Or when I ran errands and noticed him sitting on a nearby bench, his gaze drifting in my direction.
At first, it unsettled me. I thought about calling someone, but he never actually approached me. Never tried to talk again.
He was just... waiting.
And strangely, I wasn't afraid. Just confused.
Then one evening, everything changed.
It was raining.
The downpour had started while I was still on the bus, and by the time I reached my stop, the streets were slick and dark. I'd forgotten my umbrella. I ran, my clothes already soaked through, hair plastered to my face, breath coming out in short uneven puffs by the time I reached the steps of my apartment building.
I was pulling my keys from my pocket when I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned — too fast. My foot slipped on the wet pavement.
Before I could hit the ground, strong hands caught me.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I looked up into a pair of familiar blue eyes. The streetlight caught the rain in his silver hair, making him look almost unreal.
Axel.
His grip on my arms held for a second before he let go and stepped back.
"You again?" I huffed, pushing wet strands of hair out of my face. "Are you following me?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached into his bag and held something out to me.
An umbrella.
I stared at it. Then at him.
"Seriously?"
"You'll get sick," he said simply.
I hesitated. "Why do you care?"
Axel exhaled, tilting his head slightly.
"Because I do."
His voice was calm, but something about the way he said it made my chest tighten. I studied him for a moment — the rain clinging to his jacket, his silver hair darkening with dampness, his expression unreadable.
Then, slowly, I reached out and took the umbrella.
"...Thanks."
He gave a small nod and turned to leave.
"Wait."
He paused, glancing over his shoulder.
I swallowed. "Why do you keep showing up?"
Silence stretched between us, broken only by rain hitting the pavement.
Finally, he exhaled. "You'll know soon."
And then he walked away.
That was the night I stopped ignoring him.
I didn't know why, but something inside me said he wasn't just some stranger. That he mattered. That he was connected to something I hadn't figured out yet.
I was going to find out why.
Over the following week, Axel and I started talking more. It didn't happen all at once — it built in small moments. Him showing up when I got off work, falling into step beside me without saying much. It annoyed me at first. But over time, I got used to it.
He was never pushy. Never forced a conversation. But when he did speak, his words had a way of staying with me.
One evening, as we walked side by side, he asked, "Why do you wear contacts?"
I stiffened. "What?"
"Your eyes," he said, glancing at me. "They're not black, are they?"
My steps faltered.
No one had ever brought that up. Not even Mia.
"...It's easier this way," I muttered. "People stare."
He was quiet for a moment. Then — "They're beautiful."
I nearly tripped.
"What?"
I looked at him, expecting some kind of smirk, but his face was completely serious.
He shrugged. "Just saying what I see."
I turned away quickly, hoping he didn't catch the warmth creeping up my face.
Day by day, things kept shifting between us.
One evening we sat on a bench near my apartment, sharing a bag of snacks I'd picked up on the way home. The sun was going down, spreading gold over the quiet street.
"Have you ever felt like something bad is coming?" I asked, eyes on the sky.
Axel didn't answer right away. When I glanced at him, his expression had gone distant.
"Yeah," he said finally. "I have."
I watched him — the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way his fingers curled around the edge of the bag.
"Axel." I hesitated. "What aren't you telling me?"
He looked at me, and for a moment I thought he was actually going to say it.
But he sighed and shook his head. "Not yet."
That answer again.
"You keep saying that," I said, frustration bleeding into my voice.
"I know," he said quietly. "But when I tell you — you have to believe me."
I frowned. Before I could push further, he changed the subject.
And for some reason, I let him.
Looking back, I think I already knew. Deep down, I had always known. That something was coming. That my dreams weren't just dreams. That Axel was connected to all of it.
I just wasn't ready to face it.
Not yet.
To be continued.