Pay Attention To Me Novels & Stories

If she had praised me in any way it can be treated as her being biased towards me. When they had gone out of sight, I returned back to where I was seated before and relaxed so I could concentrate on the audition, completely aware that I was the center of attention. 'Don't mind them,' I thought to myself, 'Your skills are your greatest asset, not your connection.'

“She asked me if I thought the woman was good for you.” “What did you say?” “I said anyone who holds your attention that consistently must be something.” I met his gaze. “She smiled. Thought it was a lovely answer.” He said nothing for a moment. “She’s not wrong,” he said. “That’s not the point.” I looked at him. “The point is she’s watching. Not suspiciously. Just — the way she watches things she cares about. She pays attention to you. She always has.” I paused. “And she pays attention to me. Which means eventually what she’s seeing is going to start adding up.”

At the absolute steadiness of him, the way he occupied space without effort, the way the whole room bent slightly toward him without him doing anything to cause it. "I think it's always you," I said. He looked at me then. Really looked at me, the way he had at the restaurant — that unhurried, thorough attention that I was becoming inconveniently aware of as a specific and distinct sensation. "Be careful," he said quietly. "Saying things like that might make me think you've been paying attention." "I'm always paying attention," I said. Something shifted in his expression. That almost-smile, the one I had catalogued and filed and told myself meant nothing.

With room for change. The future stopped feeling like a destination. It became a direction. ************************************************************** They talked about it one night, sitting on the floor with their backs against the couch. “I used to think paying attention was about control,” Lena said. “Like if I noticed enough, I could manage outcomes.” “And now?” Eli asked. “And now I think it’s about care,” she replied. “You notice what you value.” He nodded. “And what you’re willing to protect.” ************************************************************** Protecting attention meant setting boundaries that were invisible but firm.

I didn’t know why, but that made me feel seen. Not just looked at but noticed, like the details mattered. He paid attention to things most people ignored. My mood. The way I spoke when I was tired, slower, softer. The small changes I didn’t even think anyone would care about. And it made me wonder why me? Why did he notice me like this? Sometimes, he would call me Miss P. The first time he said it, I didn’t react much, I just laughed. But as he kept saying it,

I said. Julian tilted his head slightly. “You understand it.” “You don’t know that.” “I do.” I let out a small laugh, but there was no humor in it. “You’re really confident for someone who’s not inside my head.” “I don’t need to be.” “Then what? You just decide for me?” “I pay attention.” The way he said it made my stomach twist. I looked at him more carefully. “Pay attention to what?” “To you,” he answered simply. I swallowed.

A quiet little miracle that only exists for a few seconds before dissolving into nothing. A special moment. From the corner of my eye, I feel it. His gaze. The sensation crawls slowly over my skin like warmth spreading through cold fingers. I don’t need to look to know he’s watching me. And suddenly the moment doesn’t feel peaceful anymore. It feels charged. Carefully, I glance over my shoulder. Mr. Madden is sitting behind his desk with the phone still pressed to his ear, but he isn’t paying attention to whoever is speaking anymore. I can faintly hear the muffled voice of someone talking through the receiver, but his attention isn’t on the conversation.

“I wouldn’t know where to start with something like that.” He tilted his head, studying me with an unreadable expression. “Start with what you notice,” he said simply. “Anything that catches your eye. That’s the important part. The rest comes later.” I felt a shiver run down my spine, partly from the cool air, partly from the subtle weight of his gaze. “I guess I notice a lot,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart felt like it was pounding. “Good,” he said, voice low and even. “Noticing is the first step. Most people don’t see anything at all.”

Long and boring. My attention should have been focused on the speech, to look interested, and to avoid my father's scolding later. If he caught me looking anywhere but forwards, I’ll be standing before him, bowing my head like a damn mongrel. Yet every few minutes, my gaze drifted. Finding her. Every. Single. Time. Taking in every detail.

“which wasn’t surprising, the food there was tasteless.” His words caught me off guard. ‘Was he always this attentive?’ I couldn’t help but blush. His words made me feel seen. I didn’t know he paid that much attention to me. “You don’t have to look so shocked,” he murmured, settling into his seat. “I pay attention to things that matter.” “Or the people important to me,” he added making sure to stress the statement while looking into my eyes. My face reddened at the sound of his words.