Saved By The Shadows

Alessia’s POV

When he left the café, the silence didn't feel right. The music was still playing, but the place no longer felt the same. It was colder, heavier, like something important had passed through and taken the warmth with it, I wondered if everyone else felt it.

I stayed behind the counter, staring at the space where he had stood. My hands tightly rested on the surface, but I didn’t realize it until my fingers started to ache. My body still felt tense, like it was trying to catch up with the fact that he was gone. My nipples still felt as hard as a rock, too.

Sofia was watching me, trying to read my mood.

I noticed it when I finally looked up. Her expression wasn’t curious or amused. It was sharp and serious. The kind of look she only gave when she sensed trouble, I knew I was in for tons of questions I didn't even have answers to.

She walked over to the door without saying anything, flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED, and locked it. The sound of the lock clicking into place felt louder than it should have. Then she turned and walked straight toward me.

“Okay,” she said. “You’re going to talk. Right now.” She wasn't asking.

I swallowed. “About what?”

She stopped in front of me, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t play dumb. Who was that man?”.

I wish I knew.

I leaned back against the counter, suddenly feeling tired. “I don’t know.”

She let out a short laugh. “You don’t know? Alessia, that man walked in like he owned the place. People moved out of his way. And yet he stood right in front of you, way too close for comfort.”

“I noticed,” I said quietly.

“Did you? And you looked like you forgot how to breathe.”

“I didn’t, I was just trying to find out why he came” I said, though I wasn’t completely sure that was true.

“You did,” she replied. “And don’t lie to me.”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “He’s the man from the club.”

Her face changed immediately. “The one you told me about?”

“Yes. And… he’s the one who called me that night.”

Her jaw tightened. “So the stalker.”

“I don’t know if I’d call him that,” I said quickly, trying to defend him. I don't know why I did that, though.

“Alessia, he followed you from the club, called you without explaining how he got your number, and now he shows up at your workplace. What exactly would you call that?”

I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know how to explain what I felt without sounding foolish because I know Sofia wouldn't buy any excuses.

“It’s not like that,” I finally said. “When he’s around, I don’t feel scared. He makes my body react in ways I have never felt, with just his words.”

“That’s not a good thing,” she said.

“I know,” I replied. “But he doesn’t feel random. He feels familiar. Like my body knows him even if my mind doesn’t.”

Sofia shook her head slowly. “That’s dangerous thinking.”

“I know it is,” I said. “That’s why it scares me.”

She studied my face for a moment. “You don’t owe him anything. Not your attention. Not curiosity. Whatever you’re feeling doesn’t mean you have to entertain it and I'm sure you will get over it.”

“I know,” I said.

But knowing didn’t make the feeling disappear.

By the time we locked up, night had fully settled in. The street outside was quiet, almost empty. The air felt cooler than usual, It felt weird.

“I’ll walk you halfway,” Sofia said as she put on her jacket.

“I’ll be fine,” I replied, forcing a smile.

She gave me a look that said she didn’t believe me. We walked together until we reached the corner where our paths split.

She stopped and grabbed my arm. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will.”

She hesitated, then hugged me tightly. “Please be careful.”

“I always am,” I said

But the words felt hollow the moment they left my mouth. I wish I had followed her.

I walked away, my heels clicking softly against the pavement. The streetlights cast long shadows that stretched across the road. Every sound felt louder in the quiet.

After a few minutes, I felt uneasy.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps.

I slowed down slightly.

The footsteps slowed too.

My heart started pounding.

Don’t panic, I told myself.

I kept walking, trying to convince myself I was imagining it. When I turned onto a narrower street, the footsteps followed.

They were closer now.

Faster.

My chest tightened. “Hello?” I called out, hating how weak my voice sounded.

No answer.

Before I could react, a hand grabbed my wrist.

I screamed as pain shot through my arm. I was yanked backward into the shadows so hard I almost lost my balance. My bag slipped off my shoulder and hit the ground, spilling its contents across the pavement.

“Let go of me!” I shouted, kicking and struggling.

“Stop moving,” a rough voice said close to my ear. I didn’t recognize it.

Fear rushed through me. I fought harder, scratching blindly, trying to pull free. Another hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off my scream.

I bit his hand as hard as I could.

The man cursed, and his grip loosened slightly.

For a second, I thought I might break free but I wasn't strong enough to do that.

Then the pressure returned, stronger than before.

I struggled, my heart racing, my mind spinning with fear. My wrist burned where he held me. My legs trembled as I tried to stay upright.

Then everything stopped.

The grip had vanished suddenly, as it had never been there.

I stumbled forward, gasping for air. I gathered what was left of my strength and tried to run.

The street was silent.

Too silent.

I turned, my vision blurry, trying to understand what had happened.

A figure stood at the edge of the light. Watching.

I couldn’t make out his face.

Before I could speak or move—

Everything went black.