"Still the same…"
I watched the screen in silence, leaning back slightly in the darkness.
He sat there, scrolling through his laptop, opening and closing tabs one after another—like he was searching for something he couldn't name.
A faint smile touched my lips.
"You always do this…"
My gaze lingered on him, steady, unblinking.
Restless.
Impatient.
Frustrated.
Just like before.
He paused for a second, staring at the screen as if the answer would appear if he waited long enough.
It didn't.
Of course it wouldn't.
"…You won't find it there."
My fingers tapped lightly against the keyboard in front of me.
A small interruption—barely noticeable.
The cursor on his screen froze.
Then moved.
Not by his hand.
I let out a quiet breath, almost amused.
"Let's see how long it takes you to notice…"
He froze.
Not completely—
just enough.
His movements slowed, fingers hovering over the keyboard like he wasn't sure what had just happened.
I leaned back slightly, watching him through the screen.
"…You felt that."
A faint smile formed.
Good.
He didn't move for a few seconds.
Just stared.
Thinking.
Trying to make sense of something that didn't belong.
Then—
He moved again.
Slower now.
Careful.
Testing the cursor like it might betray him again.
I let it respond normally.
For now.
Let him doubt himself first.
"…Still trying to convince yourself it's nothing?"
My fingers tapped lightly against the desk, a quiet rhythm in the silence.
He opened another tab.
Closed it.
Opened something else.
Restless.
Just like always.
A soft breath escaped me.
"…You never had patience."
I tilted my head slightly, eyes narrowing just a fraction.
Let's see how long you last this time.
Another small interference—
This time slower.
The cursor dragged… just a little behind his movement.
Delayed.
Off.
Enough to feel wrong.
He stopped again.
Longer this time.
The silence stretched.
His shoulders stiffened slightly.
There it is.
Not fear.
Awareness.
I smiled faintly.
"…That's better."
I didn't move from my spot.
No need.
Not yet.
This wasn't the moment to reveal myself.
Not when he was just starting to notice.
My gaze stayed on him, steady, patient—
waiting.
Watching.
Hunting.
He stopped.
Not suddenly—
but enough for the change to feel… wrong.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
There it is.
His fingers hovered above the keyboard, unmoving now.
The screen still glowed in front of him—
but his attention wasn't on it anymore.
It shifted.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Around the room.
A faint smile crept onto my lips.
"…You feel it."
He leaned back just slightly, like he was trying to listen to something that didn't have a sound.
His brows drew together.
Not fear.
Not yet.
But something close.
He stood up.
The chair scraped softly against the floor.
Too loud in the silence.
My gaze followed him—steady, unblinking.
He took a step forward.
Then another.
Straight toward it.
My fingers went still.
Completely.
For a moment—
even I didn't move.
"…Go on."
He stopped just short of the corner.
Close.
Too close.
If he looked up—
just a little—
A pause.
His hand lifted.
Slowly.
Like he was about to reach for something he couldn't see—
but somehow knew was there.
My gaze sharpened.
This close…
And then—
He stopped.
Just like that.
His hand dropped.
A small frown replaced that sharp focus.
Doubt.
I exhaled quietly, the tension easing just enough to turn into amusement.
"…Not yet."
He stepped back.
Once.
Twice.
And just like that—
he let it go.
Wrong choice.
A faint chuckle slipped past my lips.
Low.
Quiet.
"You were so close."
My eyes didn't leave him.
Not for a second.
"…But you always stop right before the answer."
He didn't sit back down.
Good.
I watched him linger there, hesitation clinging to every movement.
That unease—
It suited him.
"…Don't stop now."
My fingers moved lightly over the keyboard.
A small shift—barely anything.
The lights flickered.
Once.
He stilled.
Completely.
Silence fell again.
Thick.
Heavy.
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
"There it is…"
He turned this time.
Slowly—
scanning the room again, sharper now.
Better.
I let a few seconds pass.
Long enough for him to start thinking.
Doubting.
Then—
A soft creak echoed from downstairs.
Not loud.
Just enough.
His head snapped toward the door.
My smile deepened.
"Come on…"
I stepped back into the shadows of the storeroom, silent as ever, eyes still fixed on the screen.
Waiting.
A second passed.
Then another.
He moved.
Slow at first—
cautious—
but curiosity always won with him.
It always did.
"…That's right."
I watched as he reached the door, pausing only briefly before stepping out into the hallway.
My fingers tapped once more.
Another sound.
This time—closer.
A drawer shifting open downstairs.
He froze again.
Listening.
Good.
I leaned slightly against the wall, completely at ease.
"Let's see…"
A quiet breath left me, almost amused.
"…how far you're willing to follow."
He hesitated at the top of the stairs.
Good.
Right above me.
A faint smile formed as I leaned back slightly in the darkness of the storeroom.
So close… and he still had no idea.
"…Come on."
My fingers tapped once against the desk.
A soft sound echoed from below—
from right beneath him.
He froze.
I could almost picture it—
the way his expression tightened, the way his body stilled.
"There it is…"
He took a step down.
Slow.
Careful.
Each step brought him closer.
To me.
The distance between us shrank with every movement—
until—
He stopped.
Right above the storeroom.
My gaze darkened slightly.
"…So you can feel it."
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Just a thin layer of floor between us.
One step more—
one wrong move—
And he might actually find me.
My fingers stilled.
"…Not yet."
A quiet breath left me.
Let him wonder.
Let him doubt.
That was far more interesting.
A faint smile returned.
"Run if you want…"
My voice dropped to a whisper, barely there.
"…I'm closer than you think."