Helena began to notice the details.
The way he knew she drank her coffee without sugar. How he commented, almost absentmindedly, that she always carried her purse on her left shoulder. How his eyes drifted to the small scar on her wrist—the one she herself sometimes forgot existed.
They were small things. Subtle. But together they formed a disturbing mosaic.
They had been meeting in the park for a week. Every day, at the same time, as if it were planned—though it never was. She simply went, and he was there. Always.
"You changed your route today," Liam said as she approached the bench.
Helena stopped, her hand still gripping the strap of her purse.
"What?"
"Usually you come from the back street." He vaguely nodded. "Today you came from the main avenue."
A chill ran down her spine.
"How do you know where I come from?"
Liam smiled. It wasn't a disturbing smile, but there was something about it—a quiet satisfaction, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having.
"I'm watching."
"You're watching too much."
"Maybe." He shrugged, without the slightest sign of embarrassment. "Or maybe you're too interesting not to watch."
Helena sat down, but kept a greater distance than usual. Her instinct screamed two contradictory things: to run and to stay. To flee and to get even closer.
"This isn't normal, you know," she said, opening the sandwich wrapper more forcefully than necessary.
"What isn't normal?"
"This." She gestured between them. "You... knowing things about me. Watching me. Always showing up at the right moment."
"You don't want me to show up?"
She opened her mouth to answer no, that it was all strange, even invasive. But the word didn't come out. Because it would be a lie.
"I don't know what I want," she finally admitted, her voice low.
Liam leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and turned his face toward her. Those eyes. Every time he looked like that, Helena felt as if he could see right through her—beyond the skin, beyond the bones, straight to the parts she hid from everyone.
"I think you do know." His voice was almost a whisper. "You're just afraid to admit it."
"Afraid of what?"
"That this is real."
Her heart pounded. Because he was right. Something was happening between them, something she couldn't name but felt in every fiber of her being. It was too intense, too fast, too deep.
And utterly terrifying.
"Are you seeing someone?" The question slipped out before she could think it over.
Liam was silent for a long moment. Too long.
"It's complicated."
Helena laughed humorlessly.
"Of course it is." She shook her head. "I should have guessed."
— Helena...
— No. — She raised her hand. — Never mind. I shouldn't have asked. We don't even... this isn't even anything, really.
But it was. And they both knew it.
Liam reached out and touched her wrist, right where the scar was. The touch was light, almost reverent, but it sent a wave of heat through Helena's entire arm.
— You fell off your bike when you were seven — he said softly. — You hit a lamppost because you were looking at a dog on the sidewalk.
Helena's eyes widened.
— How did you...?
— You told me in a conversation you had with your classmate. Marina, right? You were laughing, having coffee at the corner bakery. Last Thursday.
The world seemed to tilt. Helena pulled her hand back, her heart racing.
— You were there.
— I was.
— You were following me.
— I was watching you. — There was no denial in his voice, no attempt to soften. — As I said from the beginning.
Helena stood up so quickly she felt dizzy.
— This is crazy. You realize that, don't you? This isn't... romantic, or mysterious, it's disturbing!
Liam stood up too, but didn't try to get closer.
— I know how it looks.
— You do? — Her voice rose. — Because to me it seems like you're a stalker, Liam! Someone who follows me, who watches me without me knowing, who knows things they shouldn't know!
— And yet you come back. — His voice was low, but firm. — Every day. You come back.
Helena opened her mouth, but couldn't answer. Because he was right. She came back. Even knowing there was something wrong, something dangerous about it all.
— Why me? — Her voice came out broken. — What do you want?
Liam took a step forward. Just one. But it was enough for Helena to feel his intensity like a physical wave.
— Because you're not like the others.
— Others? — Her stomach churned. — How many more?
He didn't answer. And somehow, the silence was worse than any answer could be.
— I need to go — Helena murmured, already walking away.
— Helena.
She stopped, but didn't turn around.
— Are you going to avoid me now? — there was something vulnerable in his voice, for the first time. — Pretend this doesn't exist?
— I don't know. — She finally looked over her shoulder. — Are you going to stop following me?
Liam stared at her for a long moment, and Helena saw something wild glint in those eyes—something that wasn't entirely human.
"No," he said simply. "I won't."
At least he was honest.
Helena turned and walked away quickly, her eyes burning. She didn't look back, but she could feel it. She knew he was there, standing, watching her every step.
As he always had been.
And the scariest part was that, in some dark and unknown corner of her heart, she didn't want him to stop.
________________________________________
to be continued...