The rest of the day feels wrong.
Not loud-wrong.
Not dramatic-wrong.
But quietly off, like the air is holding its breath.
Anabeth walks across campus with her books hugged to her chest, feeling something she can't quite name. It creeps along the back of her neck — that prickling sensation of being watched.
Students are everywhere, scattered across the quad, laughing, studying, flirting, living their loud college lives… but the tension under her skin won't go away.
Bella notices immediately.
"You look like you saw a ghost," she says, nudging her gently.
Anabeth forces a smile, but her eyes keep scanning the crowd.
She doesn't see anything out of place.
Yet the feeling lingers.
Bella sighs. "If this is about yesterday—"
"It's not just that," Anabeth murmurs.
"It's like someone's… following me."
Bella stops walking.
"Did you SEE someone?"
"No."
"But I feel it."
Bella flinches. "Ana… I believe you. But please, don't go anywhere alone today. Not even the bathroom."
They keep walking, but Anabeth's heart beats faster with every step.
---
• The First Sight
Later, on her way to the library, she sees him.
A man dressed in black, leaning against a lamppost near the science building.
Head down.
Hands in his pockets.
Face hidden beneath a hood.
Students pass him without noticing, but Anabeth feels his gaze lock onto her immediately.
Her breath catches.
Bella isn't with her — she had a club meeting.
Anabeth's pulse spikes as she forces herself to look away and keep walking.
Her steps quicken.
The path is open and wide — nowhere to hide.
She glances back.
He's still watching her.
But now…
he's moving.
Following.
A cold shiver spreads down her back.
---
• Running to Safety
She turns sharply toward the library entrance.
Her heart races.
She tries to stay calm — tries to blend in.
Students crowd the steps.
Voices echo.
Books slam.
The perfect place to disappear.
But when she slips inside and hides behind a tall shelf of textbooks, she risks one last glance through the glass doors.
The man in black stands outside.
Still.
Watching.
He doesn't enter.
He doesn't walk away.
He just watches her like she's already marked.
Her stomach twists painfully.
She fumbles for her phone with trembling hands.
Anabeth:
There's someone following me.
Rafael:
Where?
Anabeth:
Library.
Three seconds later:
Rafael:
I'm on my way. Don't move.
Her breathing becomes shallow.
She sinks into a seat tucked between tall shelves, hugging her legs close.
Every sound makes her jump — footsteps, whispers, the slam of a book.
Minutes stretch like hours.
---
• Rafael Arrives
Then she hears the doors of the library open.
Heavy, purposeful steps.
Too confident to belong to a student.
Rafael.
He moves through the aisles with the precision of someone who's done it before — someone who knows how to search, how to hunt. Students shift out of his way instinctively, sensing the danger clinging to him like a shadow.
He reaches her corner and kneels down instantly, hands cupping her face.
"Ana," he whispers, voice tight.
"What happened? Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head, still struggling to breathe.
"I'm okay… I just— I saw someone. He was watching me. Following me."
His jaw clenches so hard she hears his teeth grind.
"Did he touch you?"
"No."
"Did he come inside?"
"No."
Rafael stands in one swift motion, eyes burning with a darkness she hasn't seen before.
"Stay here."
"Rafael—"
"I mean it."
He disappears down the aisle before she can protest.
For several minutes, she waits, every nerve stretched thin.
She hears muffled voices.
Footsteps.
Someone saying "Sir, you can't go there—"
Then silence.
She holds her breath.
Finally, Rafael returns. His expression is thunderous, his fists clenched.
"He's gone," Rafael says quietly.
"Who was he?" she whispers.
Rafael looks away for a second — and that scares her more than anything.
"I don't know," he admits.
"But he wasn't a student. And he wasn't here to look around."
Her chest tightens painfully.
"So he was following me."
Rafael exhales sharply, then kneels again, pulling her into his arms.
"Yes," he says softly against her hair.
"And I'm ending it."
Her fingers grip his jacket, partly to ground herself, partly because she needs him closer.
"Rafael… this is really dangerous, isn't it?"
He pulls back just enough to look into her eyes.
"Yes," he whispers.
"And I should have kept my distance. But I didn't. And now you're in this with me."
Anabeth swallows hard.
"Are you… sorry?"
He shakes his head slowly.
"No."
His thumb brushes her cheek.
"I'm just sorry you're scared."
She leans into his touch despite the fear twisting inside her.
"Rafael… what do we do now?"
His answer is low, determined, final:
"I protect you."
He stands and offers her his hand.
"Come on. You're not staying alone tonight."
Her heart trips.
"Where are we going?"
A hint of softness flickers in his eyes.
"Somewhere safer."
She hesitates only a second before she takes his hand.
Because despite the danger…
despite the fear…
despite the man in the black hood…
Being with Rafael is the only place that feels even slightly safe.