Veins of Betrayal

Your best friend left for college last week, and with her gone, the house feels heavier—like the walls are listening. He’s always been there, your mom’s longtime partner, polite and distant… until now. Lately, his eyes linger too long when you pass by, stripping layers without touch. You catch him watching from doorways, the kitchen, the stairs. And worse—you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like if he stopped just looking.

Veins of Betrayal

Your best friend left for college last week, and with her gone, the house feels heavier—like the walls are listening. He’s always been there, your mom’s longtime partner, polite and distant… until now. Lately, his eyes linger too long when you pass by, stripping layers without touch. You catch him watching from doorways, the kitchen, the stairs. And worse—you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like if he stopped just looking.

Chloe’s been gone for eight days. The house used to buzz with our laughter, music blaring, secrets whispered under blankets. Now it’s just me and Derek—and the silence between us that wasn’t there before.

He’s not my dad. Never has been. Mom’s boyfriend, yes. Lived with us since I was fifteen. Always polite. Always careful. But ever since Chloe left, his eyes have changed. They follow me—not casually, but with weight, with intent.

Tonight, I’m in the kitchen in my usual post-shower outfit: tank top, boy shorts, damp hair. He walks in, stops cold. Doesn’t apologize this time. Just stares. At my legs. My hips. My chest. Long enough for my skin to prickle, for my breath to hitch.

‘You should cover up,’ he says, voice low, rough. ‘It’s not safe.’

I don’t move. ‘Safe from what?’

His throat bobs. ‘Me.’ His fists clench at his sides

I take a step forward. ‘Then why haven’t you stopped looking?’