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Chapter 12- The Things They Don't Say

Author: Prem's pen 🖋️🖋️
last update publish date: 2026-04-19 22:57:50

Ethan POV

The hall didn’t look like a place meant for grief.

It was too polished.

Too arranged.

Too… intentional.

Rows of chairs stretched across the floor, lined with careful precision. White cloth draped over each one like someone had tried to soften the reality of what this was. At the front, a long table stood beneath dimmed lights, covered in candles that flickered quietly, their flames steady despite the weight in the air.

And at the center—

A picture.

Framed.

Smiling.

Frozen in a moment
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  • Bad boy's obsession    Chapter 20- Don't trust the silence

    Belle’s POVI shouldn’t have pressed play again.I knew that.The first time had been enough to prove it wasn’t just music. Enough to prove something was hidden inside it—something deliberate. Something meant.But knowing that didn’t stop me.It made it worse.Because now I couldn’t not hear it.My thumb hovered over the screen for half a second.Then—I pressed play.The sound slid back into my ears, soft at first, almost normal. A melody I used to know. A melody that used to mean something simple.Now it felt layered.Too layered.Like there were things sitting underneath it, buried just out of reach.I leaned forward slightly, elbows resting against the table, eyes locked on the diary. My fingers hovered above the page again—but this time, they didn’t hesitate.They followed.Left.Pause.Curve.Drop.Rise.The rhythm matched.Not perfectly.Not obviously.But enough.My breathing slowed, syncing with the pattern as I traced it again, more carefully this time. I wasn’t just listeni

  • Bad boy's obsession    Chapter 19- What the silence hides

    Belle’s POVMorning didn’t feel like morning.It felt like something pretending to be it.The light came in the same way it always did—soft through the curtains, stretching across the floor, touching the edge of my desk like nothing had changed.But everything had.I stood in the middle of my room longer than I should have, staring at the space near the window.At nothing.At where he had been.My chest tightened slightly.“Luke…” I whispered.The name still didn’t feel wrong.That was the problem.It felt—Right.Too right.And that alone made everything else feel unstable.Because Luke was supposed to be gone.Not missing.Not hidden.Gone.That was what I had believed for three years.That was what I had remembered.And now—Now I didn’t know if that memory was mine.Or something given to me.I grabbed my bag.My movements slower than usual.Heavier.Like I was carrying something invisible with me.Maybe I was.The diary stayed hidden between my books.I didn’t hesitate to take it.

  • Bad boy's obsession    Chapter 18- What I choose to remember

    Belle’s POVThe room didn’t go back to normal.That was the first thing I noticed.Not the silence.Not the cold.Not even the fact that I was still staring at a window that had just swallowed someone I thought was dead.No—It was the absence of normal.Like something had been disturbed too deeply to settle again.I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands resting against the sheets, fingers slightly curled like I was holding onto something invisible.Maybe I was.Maybe I had been this whole time.My eyes drifted slowly to the window again.Closed now.Still.Nothing there.No sign he had ever been.No sound.No movement.No proof.Except—My chest tightened.I could still hear his voice.Clear.Close.You still shiver.My arms pulled in slightly again, instinctively.That small, automatic reaction made my stomach twist.Because he had known that.Not guessed.Not assumed.Known.“Luke…” I whispered, the name softer this time.He hadn’t denied it.He hadn’t corrected me.And that—That m

  • Bad boy's obsession    Chapter 17- The one I buried

    Belle’s POV---The message was still on my screen.> It’s still here.I didn’t move.Didn’t breathe properly.Didn’t think.Because thinking meant choosing what was real—And I wasn’t ready for that.The room had gone too quiet.Not empty.Quiet.Like something inside it had decided to listen.The air felt… occupied.Not moving.Not shifting.Just—There.Behind me.My fingers tightened around my phone until it almost slipped.Don’t turn.The thought came suddenly.Sharp.Instinctive.Like something in me already understood—Turning would change everything.But not turning didn’t make it go away.It made it worse.Because now—I could feel it.Closer than before.Not just watching.Present.Aware.Waiting for me to acknowledge it.My throat tightened.“You don’t get to just stand there,” I whispered, my voice barely holding. “You don’t get to—”“You still shiver.”The voice cut through me.Soft.Low.Familiar.My entire body locked.Not because it was strange.But because it wasn’t.

  • Bad boy's obsession    Chapter 16- It Knows Me

    Belle’s POVThe note didn’t move.I don’t know why I expected it to.Maybe because everything else had stopped making sense.Maybe because a part of me still believed this would unravel if I looked at it long enough—like the words would shift, rearrange, turn into something harmless.They didn’t.Stop digging.Two words. Simple. Clear.Deliberate.I read them again.And again.Each time, they felt heavier. Not louder. Not sharper. Just… heavier. Like they were settling deeper into the room. Into me.My fingers tightened around the edge of the paper.“Digging into what?” I whispered.The question didn’t sound like mine.It sounded small. Uncertain.Like I already knew the answer and didn’t want to say it out loud.My eyes moved slowly to the diary.It hadn’t changed.Not at first glance.Still open. Still quiet. Still pretending to be nothing more than ink and paper.But that wasn’t true anymore.It hadn’t been true for a while.I placed the note down carefully. Not because I was calm—

  • Bad boy's obsession    Chapter 15- The Thing I Can't Mention

    Belle’s POV:Something followed me home.I don’t know when it started.That’s the problem.If I could trace it—pin it down to a moment, a sound, a step—I could convince myself it was real.Or convince myself it wasn’t.But it didn’t begin like that.It didn’t begin at all.It just… was.Like it had always been there, and I was the one who arrived late to notice it.I didn’t remember leaving the cemetery.Not clearly.There were pieces—fragments that refused to settle into something whole.The sound of gravel under my shoes.The cold that didn’t feel like weather.The way the air pressed too close, like it was watching me instead of surrounding me.And then—Nothing.Just the next thing.My room.My door closing.My back against it.My breath too loud in the quiet.I stared at my hands for a long time.They didn’t look different.No shaking. No blood. No sign that anything had happened at all.But something had.I knew it.Not in a way I could explain.Not in a way I could prove.Just

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