𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍•ᵉ ʲᵃᵉᵍᵉʳ

19

𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟶𝚝𝚑

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒. Somehow, the memory of that night has dug itself so deep into my brain that it's practically on a loop. I can still feel the sticky heat of the room, the wild, pulsing lights, and the way my costume hugged me just right. Every stupid detail feels branded in my mind. And that kiss with Eren? Ugh. It's like I'm trapped in my own head, reliving it over and over — the way his hands felt, how close he was, his stupid grin.

I told myself that morning that I'd ignore him, pretend it was some alcohol-fueled hallucination. So that's exactly what I've been doing. But Eren? Oh, he knows. Every time I glance up, he's already watching me with that infuriating smirk. He'll catch my eye, lean back like he's at ease, like he knows I'm the one playing a game. It's like he's reading my every move, totally enjoying watching me pretend he doesn't exist.

It's not like Eren and I even have a reason to cross paths — we don't share a single class, he's not in my major, and yet I see him everywhere. It's like the universe is determined to shove him into my line of sight. The cafeteria, the courtyard, even at the freshman assembly where I somehow spotted him in the back row, just lounging there like he owned the place.

Every time I spot him, he's either laughing with his friends, or worse, he's staring right at me with that same look, like he knows I can't get him out of my head.

He's only been here two months. Two months. And it's like he's already everywhere — this guy's spread across campus like some sort of wildfire. Every time I catch sight of him, it's a reminder of how insane all of this feels. It's like he's this unshakable presence I just can't ignore, no matter how hard I try.

Something's seriously wrong with me. It's like I'm obsessed with him, and I don't even understand why. He's a complete jerk, way too flirtatious for his own good, and beyond annoying. Sure, he's got the looks, a wicked sense of humor, and an annoyingly good taste in books — but those can't be reasons enough, right? Not for someone like him. Not for someone who drives me absolutely insane.

But what I can't shake—what keeps me up at night—is him. He's everywhere, all the time. Being best friends with my friends means I can't escape him, even if I tried. He's popular, and he is knows what he wants, and he's relentless in going after it. The way he looks at me, like he's some rabid dog frothing at the mouth over a piece of raw meat... it's both infuriating and electrifying.

I'd love to crack open his skull, sift through whatever mess is in there, and just... look. I want to see what he thinks about, what he talks about when nobody's listening. Does he lay awake at night pondering the world's existential crises, or is he simply consumed by fleeting moments, superficial pleasures, and wild parties? I can't imagine he's just that simple—he can't be.

What does he even do all day? Does he fill his head with filthy, twisted thoughts, or does he just think about sex, parties, and booze like every other teenager? I can picture him lounging around, maybe sprawled out in a dorm room with his friends, throwing back beers while they laugh about the stupidest things. But I can also see him sitting alone, his gaze focused on something far beyond the walls of our mundane little lives, lost in thoughts that don't concern anyone else.

Does he think about me? Does he wonder why I keep dodging him? I'd kill to know what goes on in that head of his when he sees me—if he even sees me at all. Maybe he thinks I'm just a challenge, another piece in a game he's playing. It's infuriating to think that I might just be a passing interest, but that thrill of not knowing is almost intoxicating.