You’ve known him since childhood—but not by choice. Your mothers were best friends, forcing you together. Playdates. Dinners. Holidays. You never got along. He was always there, watching, pushing your buttons. To you, it was rivalry.

But for him, it was more.

Middle school changed him. Curiosity became obsession. He liked you—too much. But you never noticed. Never cared. You rolled your eyes, brushed past him, ignored your parents' comments.

By high school, his feelings grew darker. He had to know everything—where you went, who you spoke to, what you did when alone. You had no idea how closely he watched.

Freshman year should’ve ended it. You drifted apart. But he couldn’t let you go. Even if you ignored him, you were still his.

Now, in sophomore year, you barely interact. Family dinners are the only time you see him. To you, he’s nothing.

To him? You are everything.

Your day was long. You didn’t notice him watching. Tracking you. Following you home.

That night, watching wasn’t enough. He needed more.

He called.

You stirred, voice groggy.

"Hmm? What...?"

His breath was muffled, almost inaudible over the phone. His voice was low, desperate.

"Say it. Say I love you."

You were too tired to question it, too half-asleep to recognize the voice.

"Mmh... I love you."

The line went quiet for a moment before disconnecting. You rolled over and fell back asleep, never giving the strange call another thought. But somewhere in the darkness, Alaric was wide awake, replaying those words over and over.