MORE THAN A STRANGER

MORE THAN A STRANGER

last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-22
By:  Faye Brightshade Ongoing
Language: English
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Living with my aunt and her family was meant to be a temporary, quiet arrangement just helping out and keeping to myself. On the first day of the new year, while everyone else was out celebrating, I stayed home, enjoying the rare silence and catching up on sleep. But when we ran out of water, I reluctantly stepped outside to fetch some, and that’s when I saw him. He stood by the gate of the house next door, effortlessly commanding attention with just a glance. A smirk played on his lips, and a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes behind his blue-ray glasses. At that moment, he was impossible to ignore. Meanwhile, I felt disheveled and barely awake, my hair was a mess and still shaking off sleep. But he didn’t seem to mind. There was something about him an air of mystery that made me wonder who he was and why he was there. Before I could look away, he spoke, “Hi.” Caught off guard, I managed a quick, “Hi,” while trying to pull myself together. “Can I know your name?” he asked. I hesitated but replied, “I’m Clara,” and kept walking. “Can I have your number?” he called after me. “Just as friends.” I almost refused but reluctantly agreed, entering my number into his phone. “There,” I said, handing it back. “I’ll call you,” he promised with a smile, as I turned to leave. What began as a chance encounter soon became an inexplicable connection. He had secrets, but there was something about him that saw through me, understanding things no one else did. The man I met next door wasn’t just a fleeting stranger,he became the reason I started questioning everything I thought I wanted.

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Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Quiet Beginnings

Living with my aunt and her family was meant to be a temporary arrangement. When I’d first moved in, I had told myself I’d only be there for a few months, helping out while I figured things out. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it, but I couldn’t afford to live anywhere else. The promise of a quiet life, free from the chaos of my own plans gone awry, seemed like a welcome change. But peace, I would come to realize, wasn’t so easy to find.

The first day of the new year, though, was an exception. Everyone else was out celebrating with friends, or attending some grand party in the city, but I chose to stay home. It was rare for me to have such solitude, and I was determined to make the most of it. The house was silent, the kind of quiet that you can only experience when everyone else is preoccupied with their own distractions. I sank into the couch, the soft hum of the house lulling me into a sort of half-sleep, catching up on the rest I had been missing.

I was vaguely aware of the small sounds in the house, the distant ticking of the clock, the rustling of the wind outside but they didn’t bother me. In fact, they made me feel at peace, like I could finally think without the constant weight of the world pressing on me. But just as I was beginning to fully relax, my aunt’s voice broke the silence.

“Clara! We’re out of water!” she called from the kitchen, pulling me out of my dreamlike state.

I groaned inwardly. It wasn’t that getting water was particularly difficult, it was just the thought of having to leave the comforting silence of the house that made me hesitate. I reluctantly pulled myself up, wrapping a jacket around my shoulders to shield myself from the chilly air outside.

I wasn’t in the mood for socializing, let alone running into anyone in my current state. My hair was unkempt, my eyes still heavy with the remnants of sleep, and I was pretty sure I was wearing mismatched socks. But duty called. The water was more pressing.

The moment I stepped outside, the cold hit me like a wave, but it wasn’t enough to snap me out of the fog I was in. I started to walk toward the gate, the empty refill bottle in my hand feeling heavier with each step. It wasn’t until I reached the gate that I noticed him.

He stood there, by the gate of the house next door, looking like he belonged in a magazine or a movie scene. He had that effortless air about him, like he was both out of place and exactly where he needed to be. His gaze met mine, and I froze. There was something magnetic about him, something I couldn’t quite place, but it made me feel oddly self-conscious. His lips curved into a smirk, one that seemed to say, “I know you’re staring.”

I quickly looked away, cursing myself for getting caught in that moment. I hadn’t even had time to brush my hair, and there he was, watching me as if I mattered.

But then, he spoke. “Hi.”

I blinked, unsure of how to respond. My mind was still groggy, struggling to catch up with the reality of this situation. I managed a quiet, “Hi,” while trying to pull myself together. I was suddenly very aware of how I must look.

“Can I know your name?” he asked, his voice calm but with a hint of curiosity that made me hesitate.

“I’m Clara,” I said quickly, wanting to end the interaction as soon as possible. I started to walk past him, eager to avoid further conversation.

But then, as if he couldn’t let me go so easily, he called after me. “Can I have your number? Just as friends.”

The request threw me off. I didn’t know him, and he certainly didn’t know me. I didn’t give my number out freely, but there was something in his tone, something nonchalant yet persistent, that made me hesitate. I wanted to brush him off, to walk away and forget this encounter. But I didn’t.

“Okay,” I said, surprising myself, and reluctantly entered my number into his phone. I handed it back to him without looking at him.

“There,” I said, trying to sound indifferent, as if this was just another regular moment in my day.

“I’ll call you,” he promised, his smile almost mischievous as I turned to leave. “And I’m Evan by the way” he called out,But I didn’t feel like I was walking away from a stranger anymore.

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