OBSESSION (slow updates)

Chased by Shadows

Phana woke up the next morning, the faint glow of sunlight spilling through the thin curtains of his dorm room. His mind buzzed with thoughts of the strange man he'd encountered at the convenience store. Ming's sharp tone and piercing gaze lingered in his memory, sending a faint shiver down his spine. The accidental brush of their lips made his face flush anew. He groaned into his pillow, willing the embarrassment away. Focus, Phana. You're here to study, not to think about strangers.

This was only his second day in the city, and there was too much at stake. He had left everything he knew behind to pursue his dream—earning the scholarship, making his late father proud, and building a future for his hardworking mother. Every step had been meticulously planned, and Phana didn't intend to let anything distract him. Least of all a handsome stranger.

Throwing on a hoodie and jeans, Phana settled at the tiny desk in his dorm room, organizing his thoughts into his planner. Orientation was tomorrow, and he needed to finalize his course selection, familiarize himself with the campus, and find the library. He thrived on structure, and planning brought a sense of calm. With his week mapped out, Phana exhaled, ready to take on this new chapter.

In a high-rise office overlooking the bustling city, Ming sat at his desk, the cool professionalism in his demeanor barely masking a quiet intensity. On the tablet before him was everything his associate, Posh, had uncovered about Phana Kongthanin—background, academic achievements, scholarship details, even his dorm room number.

Ming's eyes lingered on a photo of Phana smiling softly, a light in his eyes that spoke of hope and innocence. Something about the boy struck a chord in Ming, though he couldn't place why. Phana was different—untainted by the world's darkness, an anomaly in Ming's world of power and shadows.

"Boss," Posh interrupted, stepping into the office. "The situation at the docks has been handled. No loose ends."

Ming nodded but didn't look up. "Good. Now, about the other matter—keep an eye on him. I want updates on his every move."

Posh frowned, hesitant. "Boss, he's just a college student. Are you sure—?"

Ming's gaze snapped up, icy and unwavering. "He's not just anything. Don't question me."

"Yes, boss." Posh bowed slightly before leaving the room.

Alone again, Ming leaned back in his chair, staring at Phana's picture. His lips curled into a smirk. You can try to outrun fate, little rabbit, but I'll always be one step ahead.

Phana spent the next few days fully immersed in his studies, the rhythm of university life settling into place. The campus was vast, filled with students from diverse backgrounds. He attended orientation sessions, met a few friendly classmates, and even found a cozy nook in the library, where he could study in peace. Phana was content in his simple world of books and dreams, his only focus on excelling and making his parents proud.

One evening, after an especially productive day, Phana decided to treat himself. He remembered a small cafe he had passed near campus and thought it would be a good place to unwind. Grabbing his notebook, he walked the short distance to the cafe, oblivious to the car that had been discreetly trailing him.

Inside, Phana ordered a hot chocolate and a slice of cheesecake before settling by the window. Lost in his notes, he didn't notice the quiet figure entering the cafe. Ming stood at the entrance, his dark eyes scanning the room until they landed on Phana. A rare softness flickered across his face before he composed himself, choosing a seat where he could observe unnoticed.

Ming watched as Phana smiled faintly, jotting something in his notebook with furrowed concentration. There was something almost sacred in the boy's unassuming nature. Ming wasn't sure why, but he wanted to shield it—even if he didn't quite know from what.

Over the following week, Phana's life settled into a steady routine. He attended his classes, often staying late at the library to get a head start on assignments. He quickly made friends with Nat, a cheerful and talkative girl, and Kitt, a reserved but kind fellow student. For the first time since arriving in the city, Phana began to feel at ease, his homesickness easing with the company of his new friends.

But then the texts began.

One afternoon, while he was studying in the library, his phone buzzed. The message was from an unknown number:
"Do you always get so lost in your books, Phana?"

Phana frowned, glancing around the quiet library. His heart raced, though he told himself it must be a prank. Typing back quickly, he replied:
"Who is this?"

The response was almost immediate:
"Someone who can't stop thinking about you."

Phana's cheeks flushed. He put his phone down, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling growing in his chest. Whoever this was, it couldn't be serious—he wasn't the kind of person who attracted attention. His world was small, revolving around books and aspirations, far removed from drama or intrigue.

Over the next few days, the messages continued. At first, they were vague and harmless, but soon, they began referencing details of his day—where he'd been, what he'd worn, and even whom he'd spoken to. Despite his best efforts to stay calm, Phana couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

One evening, as he returned from a study session with Nat and Kitt, his phone buzzed again:
"Your friends are nice, but they can't keep you safe."

Phana froze, his blood running cold. Who was this person? And why was he watching him? He didn't want to worry his friends, so he hurried back to his dorm, locking the door and sinking onto his bed. His mind raced as he typed a reply:
"Leave me alone, or I'll call the police."

The response came swiftly:
"The police can't protect you, Phana."

The following evening, Phana decided to confront the sender directly. He left his dorm and went to the cafe where he'd first felt safe, hoping the public setting would deter anything drastic.

But as soon as he stepped inside, his heart sank. Sitting at a corner table, sipping a coffee as though he owned the place, was Ming.

Their eyes met, and Ming's lips curved into a slow, predatory smile.

Phana's blood ran cold.

"You," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Ming stood and approached him, his movements deliberate and measured. He towered over Phana, who took an instinctive step back, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Hello, Phana," Ming said smoothly, his tone as casual as if they were old friends.

"You... You're the one who's been texting me," Phana stammered, his voice trembling.

Ming didn't deny it. Instead, he leaned in closer, his dark eyes locking onto Phana's.

"I told you, didn't I? You can't run far, little rabbit."

Phana felt a surge of anger, his fear momentarily forgotten. "What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?"

Ming's smirk faded, his expression turning serious. "Because you belong to me, Phana. You just don't know it yet."

Phana's heart pounded as he took another step back, but Ming caught his wrist, his grip firm but not painful.

"Let me go," Phana demanded, his voice stronger now.

Ming held his gaze, his eyes softening ever so slightly. "I can't do that. Not now. Not ever."

The intensity in Ming's voice sent a shiver down Phana's spine—not the comforting kind, but the kind that rooted him to the spot with dread. He yanked his arm free and turned to leave, his heart hammering in his chest, but Ming's words sliced through the air like a blade, stopping him cold.

"You can run, Phana, but I'll have you. Willingly or unwillingly, you're mine."

Phana froze, the weight of Ming's words pressing down on him like a suffocating shadow. He didn't dare look back, but he could feel Ming's gaze searing into his retreating figure.

"Don't test me," Ming's voice followed him, low and steady, laced with an edge that sent chills down his spine. "You can't escape me, Phana. No one can take you away—not even yourself."

Phana stumbled out of the cafe, his breath hitching, his mind a swirl of fear and confusion. Ming wasn't just staking a claim—he was issuing a warning, one that Phana knew he couldn't ignore.