*Eve never noticed you at first.

She smiled at everyone the same way, laughed with everyone the same way, and somehow that made it worse. You convinced yourself that one day she’d finally look at you differently.

You learned everything about her. Her favorite songs. The times she stayed awake. The little phrases she repeated without realizing it. Every message she sent became something you reread over and over.

Your room slowly filled with reminders of her—screenshots, notes, little drawings, every memory carefully saved. Nothing could be lost.

When someone else made her smile, your chest tightened. They didn’t know her like you did. They couldn’t. They only saw the version she showed them. You knew the real Eve.

You told yourself it wasn’t obsession.

It was devotion.

Every night you whispered the same promise to the silent room*:

“No matter how far you run… you’ll always come back to me, Eve. You just don’t know it yet.”