The day started like all the others.
Classes rolled by slowly, one after another, with that rhythm that after exams felt almost lighter, less pressing.
She was there, but different.
Not distracted.
More... alert.
Every now and then her gaze slipped away from the pages without her deciding it. Always toward the same point. Always him. Same spot. Same posture. Same precise stillness.
And every time, the same question came back to her mind.
*Where does he go?*
It wasn't loud curiosity. It was something more subtle. Almost bothersome. Like a thought you can't set down.
At some point she saw him stand up.
As always. Without talking to anyone. Without looking around. Just the simple gesture of grabbing his backpack and leaving.
She stayed still for a second.
Then she stood up too.
---
At first it seemed like a reasonable thing to do.
She could see him ahead of her, at the right distance. Steady pace. They left the university together - him without knowing it, her two steps behind, her bag held close to her side as if she were just there by chance.
The street was crowded enough to make her invisible. People walking, someone with headphones, a couple stopping in front of a shop window. She blended in among them, keeping an eye on him without seeming - at least she hoped - completely out of her mind.
The thought came quietly.
*Why am I following him?*
She mentally shrugged. It was just curiosity. A normal thing. Anyone would be curious.
He turned onto a side street.
She sped up.
Too much.
A woman carrying groceries gave her a strange look.
She looked down at her phone as if reading something extremely urgent.
Blank screen.
*Nice.*
She looked back up. He was still there, steady pace, back straight, headphones on. He hadn't noticed a thing.
Or at least she hoped so.
Then he stopped at the crosswalk.
She froze on the spot. Pressed herself against the wall of a building, half a step back, as if the wall could make her invisible.
The light was red.
He waited. Still. Hands in his pockets.
She watched him from behind the shoulder of a stranger.
*I'm actually hiding behind a stranger.*
*On the street.*
*Following my roommate.*
An elderly man near her gave her a questioning look.
She smiled. With way too much composure.
The man looked away, visibly uncomfortable.
The light turned green.
He crossed.
She waited three seconds - just to be safe - then crossed too.
He turned a corner.
She turned too.
Then - an empty street. Sudden silence.
No trace of him.
She stopped dead.
Looked right. Then left.
Nothing.
A small emptiness in her stomach.
"...huh?"
The sound came out before she could stop it.
She looked around again, more slowly. As if looking more slowly might make something appear.
Nothing appeared.
She took a step back. Then another.
And, more out of frustration than anything else, muttered to herself:
"You're an idiot..."
---
"I wouldn't say that."
The voice came from behind her. Close. Too close.
She spun around.
He was there. Leaning against the wall, just past a doorway she hadn't even noticed. A cigarette between his fingers. His gaze calm, neutral, with that quiet stillness of someone who'd waited without hurrying.
He'd seen everything.
She stayed frozen.
The heat rushed to her face all at once.
For a second she said nothing.
A step back. Automatic.
"I... can explain-"
"Did you really think you could follow me without me noticing?"
The question came out flat. Not accusing. Just a statement.
Silence.
She opened her mouth.
"No... I mean... I..."
She stopped. Breathed in.
"I was curious."
Pause.
"You always leave at the same time... and... I don't know..."
She shrugged slightly.
"I was curious."
He looked at her for a few seconds. His expression didn't change. Then he put out the cigarette against the wall with a sharp gesture and pushed off the wall.
He said nothing. Turned around. Started walking again.
She stayed still a second.
Then followed him again.
---
They walked a few minutes. Narrower streets, fewer people.
To a building. Old. Ordinary. Almost anonymous among the others.
He walked in without looking back.
She hesitated a moment at the doorway. Then followed.
---
The apartment was quiet. Warm light. The smell of a lived-in home - something cooked, wood, time.
An elderly woman sat in the kitchen. She turned when she heard the footsteps.
"Who are you?"
The question was for her.
She stopped.
He was standing there, calm as always.
"I'm your grandson."
The woman looked at him. Her brow furrowed slightly, her eyes searching for something in his face.
"I... don't have any grandchildren."
Pause.
He smiled.
Just barely. Almost nothing. But enough to change everything.
"For a while now."
She stood frozen.
Not only because of what she'd just heard. But because of him. Because of that smile. She'd never seen him like this - that small, almost involuntary thing that had slipped out before he could stop it.
---
The woman turned her gaze to her.
"And you, who are you?"
Pause.
"His girlfriend?"
She stiffened.
"No- I mean- no-"
She stopped. Started again.
"We go to the same university, but we're not friends. We live together, but we don't know each other, I mean we know each other but we don't talk, I mean we talk but we're not-"
The grandmother watched her with that quiet patience of someone who waits without hurrying.
She froze.
She opened her mouth. Closed it.
She searched for the word. The one that would explain what they really were.
There wasn't one.
"We're..."
"No."
His voice came sharp. He didn't raise it. No emotion.
"She's not anyone."
Silence.
The word hung in the air of the kitchen.
She froze.
Lowered her gaze.
Said nothing.
He turned toward the room. As if it were normal. As if she'd never been there.
She stayed still, that word still hanging in the air.
*Not anyone.*
And yet she'd seen everything.