nighthawk | tk ✔️

03

the night was slipping away, but the need to see him had only intensified.

i stood there, invisible in the shadows, as the apartment lights flickered off one by one. each bulb that went out made the night feel darker, pulling me further into the inky blackness that had become my comfort. he was settling in for the night—unaware that his every move had been watched, analyzed, and memorized.

i crossed the street, careful not to make a sound as the damp pavement muffled my footsteps. his window on the third floor was now only dimly lit, and i could make out the faint outline of his form moving beneath the thin curtains. the urge to get closer gnawed at me, clawing at my insides. the feeling was stronger than anything i had felt before. a dangerous need.

i circled the building, studying the exterior like a puzzle. a fire escape snaked its way up the side—an invitation. my eyes traced each rung, each level, mapping out my route to him. if i wanted to, i could be inside in minutes. the thought was intoxicating, but something held me back. no. not yet.

i needed to know more. not just how he moved, or how he looked when no one was watching. i needed to understand his life—the parts that no one else got to see.

i slipped back into the shadows, watching as the last light in his apartment went out. my pulse quickened, the silence of the night amplifying the sound of my own heartbeat. for a moment, everything was still—calm, even.

then, a movement.

he had come to the window again, only this time he wasn't pacing. he was just standing there, looking out, his figure outlined against the thin curtains. his face was hidden in the darkness, but i could feel his eyes searching for something. my breath caught in my throat. did he sense me? was he looking for me?

i stayed perfectly still, knowing that any small movement could give me away. but deep down, a part of me wanted to step into the light, to let him see me. to see what he would do.

seconds felt like hours, and then, just as quickly as he appeared, he disappeared back into the darkness of his room. my shoulders relaxed, though the tension still buzzed beneath my skin. i couldn't help but smile.

tomorrow, i told myself. tomorrow, i would be bolder.

but tonight, i would leave him to his dreams. i wondered if he'd think about me, not knowing who i was, but feeling my presence. would i haunt his thoughts like he haunted mine?

i lingered a moment longer before turning my back on the building, the weight of his presence still heavy on my chest. the cold air bit at my skin, but i welcomed it. it made me feel alive, sharp—ready.

i pulled up my hood, casting one last glance at the now-dark apartment.

"tomorrow," i whispered to the night.