02

Sleep didn’t come easily that night.

The city outside my window was loud, restless, and very much awake cars honking, dogs barking, and rain slashing against tin roofs. I should’ve been used to Delhi’s insomnia by now, but tonight it felt personal. Every sound seemed to have meaning, every shadow a heartbeat.

Meera was already asleep on the other side of the thin wall, her snoring a weird comfort. I stared at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above me, its squeak forming a rhythm that matched the pounding in my head.

That text still sat in my mind like a drop of ink in clear water You looked beautiful today, Arvisha.

My rational side the part trained by syllabus and structure said it was nothing. A prank, a random number, maybe a mistake. But a smaller, quieter voice whispered something else: He knows you.

And maybe, you know him too.

---

By morning, everything felt deceptively normal again. I went through the motions chai, notes, the cracked mirror that made my face look like it belonged to two different people.

Outside, the air smelled of damp earth. I decided to walk to class instead of taking the bus a terrible idea, given my track record of being late, but my body needed movement. I told myself that if I kept walking fast enough, maybe I could outpace whatever followed me.

The coaching center was buzzing, students running late, clutching their files like shields. I found my usual corner seat, near the window. The sunlight fell just right there enough to make me feel real.

Halfway through the lecture, my phone buzzed again.

Unknown number: “Don’t ignore me this time.”

My throat went dry. I looked around, scanning faces but everyone seemed buried in notes and yawns. My heart thudded so loud it drowned the teacher’s voice. I turned my phone off and slipped it deep into my bag, but my hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

When the class ended, I stayed behind, pretending to copy notes. Outside, a black car was parked by the curb — the same one I’d seen yesterday. My chest tightened.

He was sitting inside this time, the window rolled halfway down. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could feel his gaze, deliberate and heavy.

Before I could move, he stepped out — tall, composed, as if the world bent itself around his calm. The same man. The one with the pen.

“Arvisha Sharma,” he said. His voice was low, smooth, and far too confident for a stranger.

“I didn’t tell you my name,” I said quietly.

He smiled, faintly. “You did. Once.”

My breath hitched. “I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

“Maybe.” He tilted his head slightly. “Or maybe you’re the one who’s forgotten.”

The way he said forgotten made something flicker behind my ribs a chill, or a memory.

Before I could respond, Meera appeared out of nowhere, her voice loud enough to shatter the tension. “Arvi! You coming or what?

I nodded quickly, stepping back. When I glanced toward him again, he was already gone like smoke dissolving into the morning.

---

That night, I sat with my books spread open but my mind elsewhere. Every word blurred. Every sound outside made me flinch.

I finally switched off the light, but sleep refused me again. Instead, I found myself walking to the window, pulling the curtain aside just an inch.

Across the street, under the flickering streetlight, a figure stood.

Still. Watching.

I couldn’t see his face, but I knew. Somehow, I knew.

He didn’t move even when I did. Didn’t leave, didn’t hide. He simply stood there, like a shadow waiting for permission to enter.

And then slowly he raised a hand. Not a wave. Just… acknowledgment. A reminder.

That I was seen.

That forgetting wasn’t freedom.

I stepped back, heart hammering, and shut the curtain tight.

But deep down, beneath the panic and confusion, there was something else. Something dangerously close to relief.

Because if he was watching… it meant I wasn’t alone anymore.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Hello my little sinner and saints🖤~

Have you ever felt someone watching you, but couldn’t find proof?

What if the stranger who knows your name isn’t a stranger at all?

Would you rather uncover the truth — or keep your peace built on lies?

Next it'll be ishvay's pov....stay curious, stay dangerous

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~little wolf🐺 💋