Sariyah's breath was ragged, her mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. Every rational part of her was screaming to leave, to end this, to run far, far away from the man standing in front of her.

But she didn't.

She couldn't.

Because his words had hooked onto something inside her, something she didn't understand.

"To me... you were everything."

That wasn't normal.

That wasn't right.

And yet, the way he said it—so calm, so certain—sent a shiver through her spine that wasn't just fear.

She clenched her fists, trying to ground herself.

"Why?" she demanded, voice shaking but firm. "You say I was everything, but that doesn't explain why me. I don't understand, D'kazi. I never even spoke to you in high school. You never knew me."

D'kazi's dark eyes flickered with something unreadable.

"I did know you," he said quietly.

Sariyah frowned, her pulse hammering. "No, you watched me."

His jaw tensed, but he didn't deny it.

She took a step forward. "You said I wasn't just anyone to you. So tell me. Tell me what it was about me that made you do this."

For the first time, his gaze wavered, shifting slightly to the side as if he was searching for the right words.

When he finally spoke, his voice was measured.

"In high school, I didn't speak. Not to anyone."

Sariyah swallowed, remembering the rumors about him. The quiet boy who never talked, never interacted, never fit in.

"I wasn't like everyone else," he continued. "I couldn't be. I wanted to talk, but I couldn't."

His fingers twitched at his sides, a barely noticeable movement.

"Every day, I watched people connect, laugh, exist in ways I never could. And then there was you."

She stiffened as his eyes found hers again, dark and consuming.

"You were kind," he murmured. "Not just to your friends, but to everyone. You smiled at people others ignored. You made people feel seen."

Sariyah's breath caught in her throat.

"I wanted to talk to you," D'kazi admitted, his voice almost soft. "More than anything. But I couldn't. I tried. I tried so many times—but the words wouldn't come. I wasn't like the other guys who could just walk up and start a conversation. I wasn't normal like them. So I did the only thing I could do."

He inhaled slowly.

"I watched."

Her stomach twisted. "For years?"

His gaze never wavered. "Yes."

Her pulse pounded, her fingers trembling at her sides.

It was insane.

It was obsessive.

But the worst part?

He wasn't saying it like he was ashamed.

He wasn't making excuses.

He was simply telling her the truth.

A raw, unfiltered truth that sent a shudder through her entire body.

Sariyah let out a shaky breath, shaking her head. "That's not—That's not love, D'kazi. You don't know me."

"I know enough."

She stared at him, throat tight. "No, you don't. You know pieces.You know the version of me you created in your head. But that's not me."

Silence.

For a second, she thought she had finally gotten through to him.

But then he spoke again.

"I know that when you care about someone, you go out of your way to make them feel special. I know that you always bite your lip when you're nervous, even if you don't realize it. I know that when you're sad, you pretend you're fine, but your hands shake a little when you think no one's watching."

Sariyah's breath hitched.

His voice remained steady, unwavering.

"I know you better than you think."

A cold chill spread through her chest.

Because he was right.

Those were things most people wouldn't notice. Things even her friends probably hadn't paid attention to.

But he had.

Because he had studied her.

Sariyah forced herself to breathe, to push past the overwhelming weight of his words.

She needed to end this.

Now.

"I can't do this," she whispered, her voice unsteady. "I can't keep pretending this is okay."

D'kazi didn't react. He just watched her.

She inhaled sharply, her mind racing.

There was only one way to get him to stop.

To make him choose to stop.

She met his gaze head-on. "No more notes. No more lurking in the shadows. No more breaking into my apartment."

His expression darkened slightly at that last part.

"If you want to talk to me," she continued, forcing the words out before she lost her nerve, "then come up to me like a normal person."

A muscle in his jaw twitched.

Sariyah's chest tightened. "That's the only way this ends, D'kazi. No more following me in the dark. No more hiding. If you want me in your life, be in it like everyone else."

Silence.

She didn't know what she expected.

For him to agree? To argue? To disappear into the night again?

But D'kazi just stood there, staring at her like she had just said something impossible.

His hands clenched at his sides, his breathing uneven.

Finally, he spoke.

"You don't understand."

Her stomach twisted. "Then make me understand."

His dark eyes burned into hers.

"If I stop watching, if I stop following," he murmured, voice tight, "I lose you."

Her throat went dry.

She didn't—

She couldn't process that.

But she forced herself to stand her ground.

"No," she said, voice stronger than she felt. "You lose me if you don't stop."

D'kazi went silent again.

Something unreadable flickered in his gaze—conflict, hesitation, something fragile she couldn't quite name.

And then—

A slow, measured nod.

Not a promise. Not an agreement.

Just acknowledgment.

Sariyah exhaled shakily.

This wasn't over.

Not even close.

But it was a start.

And maybe—just maybe—

That was enough.

For now.

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