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Aftertaste

Author: Nanseigh
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-08-02 02:18:14

Ari's POV

I woke up too early again.

The room was dim, wrapped in blue-gray shadows that hadn’t been chased away by sunrise. I blinked up at the ceiling and just lay there, listening. No birds. No student chatter. Just the low hum of the walls, like the building was breathing.

My chest ached with that same weight from yesterday, heavier now that I’d survived my first day.

I hadn’t made any friends.

I hadn’t even talked to anyone, not really.

Just muttered “sorry” and “excuse me” a dozen times and tried not to get lost between buildings that all looked like predators built them. Which… they probably did.

I turned my face into the pillow and breathed out slow. The room still smelled like new sheets, cardboard boxes, and lavender detergent I didn't remember packing. It didn’t smell like home.

The silence scraped my nerves raw.

I didn’t want to move.

But my body had other ideas—my ears twitched, alert like they’d heard something my brain hadn’t. A whisper? No. A rustle maybe. Wind? My heart kicked harder than it needed to.

There was no wind.

I sat up, pulling the blanket around me. The floor was cold when my feet touched it, and I tiptoed over to the window without turning on the light.

It was still there.

That stone ledge just under my window. Just far enough away that a person would have to climb up to reach it. My stomach flipped like it always did when I looked down at it. I didn’t know why it made me uneasy, but it did. Something about it felt too… close.

I leaned out a little, peering into the morning haze. Nothing was there. Just the ledge. Just the old bricks. Just air.

I closed the window. Locked it this time.

---

The bathroom mirror wasn’t kind. I looked like I hadn’t slept in days. My eyes were shadowed, skin too pale, hair flat. I tried brushing it out and gave up halfway through. Even my ears drooped a little, like they were exhausted too.

I didn’t have a roommate to distract me or ask if I was okay. And I didn’t know if I liked that or hated it.

Yesterday had drained me. Every stare, every whisper, every unfamiliar face felt like it clung to my fur. My uniform still smelled like chalk dust and something sharp I couldn’t name. Maybe… aftershave?

No. Something more metallic.

I shook it off and changed into a fresh set. My second uniform was too crisp, the fabric stiff against my skin. I buttoned it up slowly, wishing I could disappear into something softer.

---

The walk to the campus café was short, but every footstep sounded loud in the early quiet. I passed a tall guy on the path—panther hybrid, maybe—who didn’t even glance at me. But my whole body flinched like he had.

I hated that.

Why did I always feel like prey, even when no one was looking?

I grabbed a tray and sat at the corner-most table inside the café. A simple breakfast. Toast. Fruit. Warm milk. Nothing exciting, but it calmed my stomach a little.

Until the back of my neck prickled.

It was subtle. Not a voice. Not a footstep. Just that same awful chill, like someone was watching me.

I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t.

Instead, I sipped my milk slowly and kept my eyes on the napkin holder. My heart beat loud in my ears.

No one’s watching. You’re just anxious. Stop being stupid.

Still, my ears flattened without asking me.

After a few more minutes, the pressure faded. But it left something behind—like a scent I couldn’t shake, something cloying and heavy and wrong.

---

I stayed in the library after breakfast. There were less people, and I could bury myself between the shelves like I used to back home. I read part of a book about hybrid species history, but none of the words stuck.

My thoughts kept drifting to that ledge.

Why did I always feel like I was being followed?

Why did the shadows feel thicker whenever I was alone?

Why did I wake up this morning thinking someone had touched my door?

No footprints. No markings. Nothing concrete. But I swear something wasn’t right.

I pressed the book closed and hugged it to my chest, letting the silence press in around me like a second skin.

---

When I returned to my room that afternoon, I paused at the window.

I don’t know what I expected to see. Maybe a smudge. A scratch. A sign.

There was none.

But I locked the window again anyway.

And this time, I pushed a chair up against it.

Just in case.

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