I can see you

Chapter 3

(EDWARD'S POV)

She thinks I didn't know. She thinks it was chance that I just happened to walk into that alley, that I just happened to stop, just happened to turn around at the perfect moment. But none of that was coincidence.

I'd seen her reflection in the bus stop window two days ago. I'd noticed her pause at the vending machines, always a few steps behind me. Her schedule wasn't hard to trace. She was smart, but not careful.

And when someone watches me that often... I start watching back. That's why I led her there. The alley was Quiet and cut off. Perfect for seeing people as they really are. When I turned to face her, I saw the hesitation in her eyes. I saw the breath she didn't take. She was scared, maybe but not of me. She was scared of being seen. That's what fascinated me most about Rosy. The way she looked at me like I was something precious and dangerous all at once. Like she was begging to be ruined.
Like she already had been.

She offered my ID back. Said she followed me to return it. Lied without blinking.
Cute. She smiled the way people do when they're trying not to cry or confess or scream. I took the card from her hand and let my fingers linger. "Thanks," I said. That's all. I didn't need to say more. The look in her eyes told me everything I wanted to know. She wasn't done with me.
Not even close. And honestly? I didn't want her to be.

---

Later that night, I developed the photos I'd taken that week. She was in four of them.

Once in the courtyard.
Once in the library stacks.
Twice in the cafeteria.

Always behind someone and always watching. I printed one-just one. The café photo. The first time I saw her. She was sitting by the window, eyes wide and blank, like she'd been caught mid-thought. Her hands curled around a teacup.
She looked fragile in that shot. Breakable and perfect. I pinned the photo to my wall, just above the others.

This wasn't the first time I'd been followed but it was the first time I wanted someone to keep following.

I've always been drawn to women with long black hair and wide eyes.
There's something about that look-soft on the outside, hiding everything underneath.

But what I love more than their beauty is the moment it breaks.
When that long hair is soaked in red.
When those big eyes flood with tears.
When their screams echo in my ears like music.

That's when the world makes sense.
That's when I feel alive.

That day, I was following someone else into the café-one of my usual targets. Routine. But then I saw her. I thought I had moved on. I thought I could forget her face. But there she was. Back like a ghost.

Sitting by the window, bathed in late-afternoon sunlight. Her skin glowed like porcelain-flawless, untouched. Her lips curved into a quiet smile, like she was lost in a thought she didn't want to share. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, soft and deliberate.

She was breathtaking. It was her after all. I felt my pulse shift.

Without hesitation, I pulled out my camera.
It's always with me-I'm a photography student, after all. No one questions it. I raised the lens and captured her in that light, that moment. I didn't stop at one photo.

That's when I noticed it-her uniform.
Same as mine. Same school. Same halls. The universe clearly wanted us to meet again. Fate, or something like it.

The next week, I waited in the hallway. I had timed it out. Studied her routine. I didn't have to wait long. Just like clockwork, she walked toward me through the crowd. Head slightly down. Bag clutched in her arms. Distracted and in a hurry. Perfect. She bumped into me and I let my ID slip from my hand-just enough to make her feel clever for noticing.

She apologized quickly, flustered. Bent down, picked up the card. Her eyes widened slightly. But then she shoved it into her bag discreetly, or so she thought, and hurried to class. It wasn't the same girl who destroyed everything. Not on the surface. This version was softer but Slower. She didn't even flinch. Everything had played out exactly as I planned.

Later that day, she started following me. I let her. Then I stopped into the alley ahead of her. where the shadows swallowed sound. My hand was already in my pocket, wrapped around the handle. The weight of the blade was familiar and comforting.

I'd planned this for years.
Dreamed of it. Ever since the fire. Ever since she smiled as my world collapsed- My brother gone. My mother's cold corpse. The loop began that day. And I've been chasing its end ever since.

But the girl I knew wouldn't have followed me. She would've screamed. Fought or Run. This one? This one smiled.

It was supposed to be simple but then, I saw it. The look on her face was uncertainty, unguarded. Not fear. Not yet, Confusion or vulnerability. But more than that, something that shouldn't have been there: Recognition.

Not full. Not conscious. Just a flicker. I could've ended it. But that would've been fair to no one. Yes, that's all it is-just a game. A little more entertainment. At least, that's what I wanted to believe.

But games aren't fun when the pieces break in two. And I was starting to realize that She already had.