Soo-jin stared at him, trying to read past the calm mask, to see if there was any part of Carlos that still lived in reality. "You think this is how love works?" Soo-jin snapped. "By lying? By wearing someone else's face?" Carlos's jaw twitched, but he smiled slow, sad. "No," he said. "But love never worked for me the normal way." He turned slightly, pulling something from his coat pocket a small notebook, leather-bound, well-worn. He placed it gently on the table beside the flowers. "Every conversation we had. Every smile you gave her. I wrote it down."His voice dropped to a whisper. "I wanted to relive it. Again and again. Until it felt real." Soo-jin's stomach turned. "This isn't love, Carlos. This is an obsession. You need help." Carlos looked at him like that was the funniest thing he'd heard all night. "Maybe I do. But if needing you makes me sick, then I'll be sick until the end." He stepped closer. "Don't pretend you didn't feel something. Even for her. Because that was me, Soo-jin. It was always me." Soo-jin took a small step back calculated, subtle, Carlos noticed. "You're scared." He sounded… delighted. "Good. That means I still matter." "You're wrong." Soo-jin kept his voice firm. "I'm scared because I don't know what you'll do next. Carlos stopped. Tilted his head. "That's fair," Carlos said. "Because neither do I." The words hung heavy in the air. His expression didn't shift much, but something behind his eyes flickered like a candle guttering in its last moments. Unstable. Unpredictable. Soo-jin's mind was racing. His phone was in his coat. No signal out here. Backup wasn't coming. He needed to control the conversation. Keep Carlos talking. "So what now?" he asked, voice low but steady. "What's the plan, Carlos? You confess, and then what? You think I'll suddenly fall for you?" Carlos's smile faltered. "No," he said softly. "But you'll understand me. And that's almost the same thing." He walked over to the window, drew back the curtain, and revealed a screen. A live feed. Multiple angles. Of Soo-jin. Over weeks. Months. Soo-jin's blood ran cold. "You weren't just watching," he breathed. "You were studying me." "Loving you," Carlos corrected, almost offended. "Don't make it sound dirty." "It is dirty." Carlos turned, now fully serious. "Don't pretend you didn't like the attention. That you didn't feel safe around me her whatever. You lowered your guard. You let me in." "Because I didn't know who you were!" "And now you do." Carlos stepped forward again, every word heavier than the last. "Now you know exactly how far I'll go for you." He reached into his jacket slowly. Soo-jin tensed but Carlos only pulled out a small, wrapped box. He set it on the table beside the flowers and the notebook. "This was supposed to be for your birthday. I was going to leave it in your mailbox." His voice cracked again, raw and soft like a wound. "Now… it's just proof." "Proof of what?" Carlos's eyes lifted—wild and gleaming. "That I was always there. And you never once looked back." Soo-jin stared at the small gift box. It was wrapped in plain black paper, tied with a blood-red ribbon—deliberate, theatrical, like everything Carlos did. He didn't move. Carlos sighed, as if disappointed, and slowly untied the ribbon himself. The paper peeled away with care, almost reverence, until he opened the lid. Inside was a small silver locket. At first glance, it looked innocent. But when Carlos flipped it open, Soo-jin's breath hitched. On one side was a tiny photo of Soo-jin, mid-laugh. A candid. A private moment no one should have had access to. On the other side a lock of Soo-jin's hair. Neatly sealed, like a trophy. "How did you get that?" Soo-jin asked, voice quiet, deadly. Carlos's smile was almost serene. "You lost it during training. A strand on your uniform. You never notice the things I do." Soo-jin's pulse thundered in his ears.Carlos held out the locket like it was a gift from a lover, not a stalker. "It's not much, I know. But when you wore blue, you looked so… untouchable. I wanted to keep just a piece of that." Soo-jin's jaw clenched. "This ends tonight." Carlos's smile faltered again. "You think locking me up will fix this?" His voice dropped. "I don't need to be near you to be in your head, Soo-jin. I'm already there. You'll hear my voice when you try to sleep. You'll wonder if I'm behind you every time you turn a corner. And maybe..." He stepped closer, close enough that Soo-jin could smell the lilies sweet and suffocating. "…maybe you'll start to miss it." Soo-jin snapped. He lunged forward, slamming Carlos against the wall, arm pressed to his throat. "You're sick. And I'm done playing your game." Carlos only looked up at him, smiling through the pressure on his neck. "Then arrest me, Officer Kim." His voice was ragged, breathless. "But don't lie to yourself. You wouldn't have come alone if part of you didn't want to see me again." "But don't lie to yourself. You wouldn't have come alone if part of you didn't want to see me again." The words hit Soo-jin like ice water. For a second—just a second—he hesitated. But that was all Carlos needed. That knowing look. That smile like he'd already won. Soo-jin's grip tightened. "You're under arrest, Carlos Gonzalez." His voice was cold. Final. He yanked Carlos's arms behind his back and snapped the cuffs on with practiced force. Carlos didn't resist. He just laughed. Soft. Unsettling. "I knew you'd touch me eventually." Soo-jin shoved him forward. "Save it for your cell." As they stepped out of the dim apartment and into the flickering hallway lights, Soo-jin cast one last glance back at the flowers, the notebook, the locket. Evidence. Yes. But also a message. Carlos hadn't just blurred the line between love and obsession. He'd crossed it. And dragged Soo-jin halfway with him. The cold hum of the overhead lights buzzed like a fly in a coffin. Soo-jin sat across from Carlos, the steel table between them the only barrier now. Carlos looked… comfortable. Relaxed. Like he was catching up with an old friend, not facing charges for stalking, identity fraud, and potential murder. "You've been quiet," Carlos said, breaking the silence with a smile. "I miss when you used to ask about my day." Soo-jin didn't respond. He opened the file on the table with stiff fingers. Surveillance photos. Voice analysis. The locket. The fake ID was used to impersonate Cha Mi-young. He slid the photos toward Carlos. "Start talking." Carlos glanced down at the evidence, then looked back up at Soo-jin like none of it mattered. "You already know everything. You knew the moment I opened the door." "Tell me what happened to the real Cha Mi-young." Carlos's gaze sharpened. Just a flicker. "She was… tired of being alive. I gave her peace." Soo-jin stiffened. "So you killed her." Carlos leaned forward. "No. I freed her." His voice was soft, reverent. "She wanted out, and I wanted in. It was a fair trade." Soo-jin's voice rose. "You're not a saviour. You're a parasite." Carlos's expression didn't change. But his next words were low. Personal. "And yet, you came alone. You walked into my space. You let me speak. You could've shot me if I'd moved wrong. But you didn't." He leaned closer. "Why is that, Officer Kim?" "Because I follow the law." "No." Carlos smiled. "Because some part of you wanted to understand me. And maybe… part of you already does." Soo-jin slammed a hand on the table. "This isn't a love story, Carlos. This is a confession." But Carlos just laughed again, soft and satisfied. "You're shaking." He tilted his head. "Is it rage? Or is it fear? Or is it… something else?" Soo-jin stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. He needed air. Distance. Anything to stop feeling like Carlos was still crawling under his skin. "Enjoy your cell," he muttered, heading for the door. Carlos's final words followed him like a shadow: "You can lock me up, Soo-jin… but I'll still be the name your heart flinches at."
