Sinister Desires

Chapter 5: Fascination

Dimitri

Here I am again, back in this place as if time itself refused to move forward. This small town feels like an old faded painting, trapped in the past. The air in the morning is so crisp and refreshing, it's usually the time I can focus the most, giving me more clarity. But not this time.

She's here now, working in the town's library-a building as quiet and reserved as she is, though somehow even more elusive. A boring structure, barely breathing with life, rarely visited by anyone. Yet because she's here, it becomes something otherworldly, like an untouched relic or a precious hidden treasure that only I know exists.

I hadn't planned on going in. I was supposed to follow from a distance, maybe watch from outside the gates, nothing more. Just a silent shadow slipping past the cracked, rusted blue gates, just another stranger walking by. But my gaze was locked onto her, walking slowly behind like a lost puppy looking for its owner, and before I knew it, I'd wandered into the courtyard.

She stood there, the morning light barely glinting off the keys she held, her hands trembling as she slipped one into the lock. The metallic clinking of the keys and loud creaking of the door were startlingly loud in the stillness, echoing across the empty space. There used to be some metal benches here and flowers decorating the middle of the courtyard, some flower bushes along the edges surrounding the doors.

A delicate frost blanket covered the library's courtyard, turning whatever is still left of the rose bushes into fragile, silver like sculptures. It spread to the edges of the old rusty benches and traced an intricate lacework along the window panes, as if nature herself had taken a brush to paint every surface just for my love.

The early morning light already started to hit the frost and melt it in places, casting a gentle shimmer making it feel as though time held its breath in this frozen, crystalline moment. Wherever this woman goes she brings beauty to even the most boring, unremarkable places.

Her burgundy hair flowed like spilled wine against the pale, crystalline backdrop, each strand catching the faint morning light as she slid past the doors, defying the chill that painted the rose bushes and window edges in silver. She didn't belong in this frozen moment, I thought; she was warmth and fire, a vivid streak of color that the frost could only hope to touch.

Yes...she was the fire that has ignited a passion I thought I could never have. How fitting.

When the heavy, weathered wooden doors closed shut, the sound reverberated, cracking the silence apart. It hit me right then-what I was doing. Where I was, staring mindlessly. Caught by surprise I jumped a bit in place and could finally hear my thoughts, heart pounding, as though that sound alone had exposed my intentions, had made this quiet, empty place suddenly feel alive.

For a moment, I wondered if she could feel my presence behind her, like a weight pressing on the stillness, a shadow stretching toward her. So I waited a while longer before stepping into the building, thinking it would make it seem less suspicious.

But there was something about the way she moved between the shelves, her hands gliding over the spines of books, walking slowly and swaying her hips while rounding the front desk made it impossible to resist.

I've been going there every day now, catching her in those stolen moments. She reads all sorts of books-slowly, methodically. I've begun buying the same books, flipping through them every night behind her house, in my car even, so I could have something to talk to her about.

Small steps. I need to understand where she's been, what she's hiding. And maybe, what she remembers about me.

It saddens me that Katya forgot who I was but it's been 2 years since we had last seen each other so it would be best to not hold a grudge. A lot can happen in this timespan.