Covet [Original]

Shadows in the Daylight

The days after that conversation blurred together in a strange haze. Rhea went to school, finished her homework, and made small talk with friends, but she felt disconnected from it all. Her mind kept drifting back to Juno’s words, the way they slithered into her thoughts no matter how much she tried to shake them off.

She couldn’t even look at herself in the mirror without feeling a flash of guilt. The questions Juno had planted in her mind echoed in the background of her daily routine, like an itch she couldn’t scratch. She would be walking to class or sitting in the cafeteria, and she’d feel a wave of shame, as if Juno were watching her, silently judging her for pretending to be so put-together.

One afternoon, as she walked home from school, her phone buzzed in her pocket. The familiar thrill sparked in her chest, but this time it was mixed with dread. It was Juno, sending her a message.

> “Miss me yet?”

Rhea’s fingers hovered over her phone as she thought of what to say. Every time they talked, it felt like a line was crossed, like Juno was pushing her further into something she wasn’t ready for. But she was hooked, unable to look away.

“Maybe,” she typed, her heart racing as she hit send.

> “Don’t be shy, Rhea. I know you think about me even when we’re not talking. I can practically feel it.”

Rhea swallowed, her cheeks flushing. How did Juno always seem to know? It was as if she could see straight through her, sensing every private thought that made her feel weak and exposed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, hoping the cool response would deflect Juno’s probing.

> “Come on. You’re just pretending, like always. I’m the only one you’re real with, aren’t I?”

Rhea’s hands trembled as she read the words. Deep down, she knew it was true. No one else had ever seen the parts of herself she’d shown Juno. Not that she even wanted them to. But there was something about being seen by Juno, something both terrifying and addictive, that kept her coming back.

Yet, at the same time, resentment was building inside her—a frustration she couldn’t shake. Juno had made her think these things, had stirred up desires that felt like foreign invaders in her own mind. And now, as if it were nothing, Juno acted as though she owned those thoughts, as if she could come and go, leaving Rhea to deal with the mess.

She tried, for once, to push back.

“Sometimes I think… maybe it would be easier if we didn’t talk about all this. It just makes things confusing.”

Rhea watched the dots appear on the screen as Juno typed, her heart pounding.

> “Confusing? Or just too real for you? Face it, Rhea—you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want this. Maybe you just need a little more courage.”

Rhea’s frustration spiked. Juno always turned her words back on her, always made her feel small for trying to set boundaries. And yet, each time, Rhea caved, feeling somehow powerless under the weight of Juno’s confidence.

She spent the rest of the walk home replaying the conversation, trying to make sense of her feelings. On one hand, she wanted to keep talking to Juno, to keep exploring this strange connection. But on the other hand, she felt trapped, as if she were bound to something dark and beyond her control.

That night, Rhea lay awake, staring at the shadows on her ceiling. She felt something twist in her gut, a mixture of longing and anger that she didn’t know how to name. A question burned in her mind: Had Juno put these desires in her head, or had they always been there, just waiting to be uncovered?

She knew that no matter what, she couldn’t bring herself to stop talking to Juno. Not yet. Not when the answers felt so close, even if they left her feeling more lost than before.

But as the days went on, the lines continued to blur. And deep down, Rhea was beginning to wonder if she was losing herself—piece by piece, word by word, to the girl on the other side of the screen.