The phone alarm rang at six in the morning.
The simple tone felt too loud in the small inn room. Nara woke up with her heart beating rapidly, as if her body hadn't yet adjusted to the reality that today, she had a purpose.
Her first day of work.
She sat up slowly, staring at her phone screen, which was still dark. Last night's message flashed through her mind again. A new number. Short words. The way Arsen knew something she had never told him.
She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the thought. Today had to go normally. She didn't want to start something new under the shadow of anxiety.
After showering, she put on a simple gray shirt and black pants that were still quite neat. She stood in front of the small mirror, fixing her hair repeatedly. There was a nervousness she was hiding even from herself.
She didn't want to fail again.
The inn hallway was still quiet when she went out. The morning air was cold, but not piercing like the days before. Her steps were light—a small hope she hadn't felt in a long time.
As she opened the main door of the inn, the black car was already parked across the street.
Nara stopped.
Arsen was leaning against the car door, holding two paper coffee cups. He looked relaxed, as if his presence there was entirely natural.
"Good morning," he said softly.
Nara frowned. "How… how long have you been here?"
"Not long." He extended one coffee cup. "The first day usually requires caffeine."
Nara hesitated, but finally took it. The coffee was warm. Its bitter aroma was soothing, but also made her chest feel a little tight—a small act of care that felt too precise.
"I can walk by myself," she said.
Arsen opened the car door. "I know. But I'm already here. It doesn't matter, right?"
His tone was not forceful. Nor did it leave room for a comfortable refusal.
Nara finally got in.
The ride to the bookstore was silent. Arsen didn't talk much, only occasionally glancing at her with a faint smile. Nara stared out the window, watching people rushing toward their respective jobs.
She tried to focus on the day that was about to begin—bookshelves, customers, the sound of pages turning. Small things that might make her life feel stable.
The bookstore was already open when they arrived. Rena welcomed her warmly. "On time. I like that."
Nara smiled faintly. For the first time since arriving in this city, she felt expected somewhere.
The first day went quite well. She learned to arrange books by category, use the old cash register, and remember the names of a few regular customers. The shop wasn't crowded, but it felt alive—light conversation, the aroma of coffee, the sound of soft music.
A few customers looked at her with curiosity. A student asked for a novel recommendation. A young mother asked for help finding children's books. Nara answered carefully, trying to look confident even though she was still shaky inside.
For a few hours, she almost forgot about Arsen.
Almost.
Around midday, the shop door chimed. Nara, who was organizing a shelf, turned immediately.
Arsen walked in with a calm pace, carrying a small paper bag.
Rena waved her hand. "You visit so often."
"I was just passing by," Arsen answered casually.
He approached Nara and placed the bag on the counter. "Lunch."
Nara tensed up. "You don't need to—"
"You definitely forget to eat when you're busy," he said quietly.
A few customers looked over. Rena smiled as if it were sweet. Nara didn't know how to feel. There was a sense of warmth… but also a feeling of being watched too closely in a place she had just begun to consider hers.
She thanked him quietly.
Arsen didn't leave immediately. He stood near the bookshelf, watching Nara work. Every time a male customer spoke to Nara for a little too long, Arsen's gaze changed—still calm, but sharper.
A young man laughed when Nara recommended a book. "Are you new here? The way you explain things is interesting," he said.
Nara smiled politely.
A few steps behind, Arsen stood silently. His hands in his pockets. His face was neutral, but his eyes never left her.
After the man left, Arsen approached. "You make friends quickly," he said lightly.
"It's part of the job," Nara answered.
Arsen nodded, but his smile changed slightly. "Just… be careful. Not everyone has good intentions."
The sentence sounded like advice. But his tone had something else—something that made Nara feel like she was being scrutinized.
Evening came. The shop became quieter. Arsen finally left, but not before saying he would pick Nara up to go home.
Nara almost refused, but exhaustion made her not have the energy to argue.
When the shop closed, she walked out and found the black car waiting again.
The ride home was silent. Streetlights reflected on the car window like long, endless lines.
"You look happy today," Arsen said finally.
"I like working there," Nara answered honestly.
"I'm glad to hear that."
He paused for a moment. "But that man earlier… talked too much."
Nara turned her head. "He was just a customer."
"I know." Arsen smiled faintly. "I just didn't like the way he looked at you."
The sentence made the air inside the car feel tighter.
"Arsen," Nara said quietly, "you can't control who speaks to me."
"I'm not controlling," he answered quickly. "I only care."
That word again.
The car stopped in front of the inn. Nara opened the door without saying anything else. Before she got out, Arsen said quietly, "I only want you to be safe."
She nodded briefly and went in.
Inside the room, she sat for a long time on the edge of the bed. The day that was supposed to feel light had instead left behind a heavy feeling that was hard to explain.
She loved working.
She loved feeling useful.
But she was also beginning to feel that her life was never truly far from Arsen's supervision.
The night grew later. She tried to read, but her mind kept returning to Arsen's gaze in the shop—calm, but too focused. The way he watched every conversation. The way he always appeared… always knew.
She lay down and stared at the ceiling.
Her first day was a success.
But the freedom she had hoped for felt… different.
As if every step forward was always followed by a shadow walking right behind her—never too close to look dangerous, but close enough to make her realize she was never truly alone.
And although a part of her wanted to stay away…
another part was beginning to get used to that presence.
Used to it…
and slowly… dependent.
Outside the window, streetlights shone dimly. The city seemed calm. But inside her heart, something was beginning to change—slowly, almost imperceptibly.
The boundary that used to be clear was now beginning to blur.
And without her realizing it…
she had taken another step toward a relationship that would become the center of all the pain she had yet to know.