Trapped in venus

Jin rides the train every day at five p.m. sharp-never late, never early. Always with his Venus flytrap resting in his hands like something alive enough to understand him. He sits across from the same boy each evening, a stranger with quiet eyes who never looks away.
At first, the staring unsettles Jin. Then it becomes routine. Familiar. Almost expected.
At eight p.m., after leaving college, the boy is there again. Same seat. Same gaze. Their schedules always align, as if the train itself is pulling them together. They never speak. They only watch. Measure. Wait. Until one night, the silence breaks. "You obsessed with plants or something?"
And in that moment, Jin realizes some things don't trap you gently they watch, they wait... and then they close.