It became a pattern.
And that was the problem.
I started noticing things I shouldn't.
The time he arrived. The way he sat. The subtle shifts in his posture. The way his attention seemed… selective.
Like it always circled back to me.
At first, I tried to ignore it.
Convince myself it wasn't real.
But patterns don't lie.
And this one was becoming impossible to dismiss.
Every day, it was the same.
I'd walk in.
Tell myself I wouldn't look.
Fail.
Find him already watching me.
And somehow, that was the most dangerous part.
Not the looking.
Not even the tension.
But the fact that I was starting to expect it.
Starting to wait for it.
That wasn't normal.
I knew that.
Still, today felt different.
The moment I stepped in, I felt it.
That awareness.
Like something had already shifted before I even got there.
I didn't look immediately this time.
I took my time. Set my things down. Sat properly. Adjusted my bag.
Then, slowly—
I lifted my gaze.
He was closer today.
Not by much.
But enough.
Enough for me to notice.
Enough for it to matter.
My breath caught slightly, and I hated that he probably saw it.
Because of course he was already looking.
Of course.
There was no surprise anymore.
Just that same steady, unreadable expression.
And something underneath it.
Something I was starting to recognize.
Interest.
Not casual.
Not fleeting.
Intentional.
And that realization sent a quiet warning through me.
This wasn't harmless anymore.
It hadn't been for a while.
I shifted slightly in my seat, trying to break whatever invisible thread had formed between us.
It didn't work.
If anything, it made it worse.
Because his gaze dropped—just for a second—then came back up.
Slower this time.
More deliberate.
My stomach flipped.
"Okay… no," I whispered to myself, shaking my head faintly.
This was getting out of hand.
We hadn't spoken.
Didn't know each other.
And yet, somehow, this silent interaction felt more intense than actual conversations I'd had with people I'd known for years.
That wasn't normal.
It wasn't safe either.
I looked away, forcing myself to focus on something else.
Anything else.
But the awareness didn't leave.
It stayed.
Lingering.
Pressing.
Until it became impossible to ignore.
Because deep down, I already knew the truth—
This wasn't just curiosity anymore.
This was something else.
Something dangerous.