What lies in the shadow : From university to unexpected love.

The tension between David and me settles into something unspoken but undeniably present during the ride to his home. The strange discomfort from my apartment's intrusion lifting the more we are getting away from it.

When we finally arrive, David lets me in, but keeps carrying my bags.

"How about I show you around?" David offers, his voice low and warm. "I thought you'd enjoy a more formal tour of the place. You've seen the basics, but the house is a bit… bigger than just the living space and my bedroom."

I nod, grateful for the distraction. I follow him through the halls, taking in the intricate Victorian details, ornate woodwork, tall windows. The house breathes history, elegance, and something else I can't quite name. It feels like walking through a memory that doesn't belong to me. There is no additional bedroom as per say. But there are several other rooms that are empty upstairs. On the main floor, there is the living room, kitchen and a huge office. There are also toilets.

Eventually, he brings me to his bedroom, and shows me to the adjacent bathroom : the centerpiece of the tour, apparently. The floor is made from mate octagonal black stone tiles. I think it is slate. The massive walk-in shower is big enough to fit 2 or more people, it is surrounded by sleek modern fixtures that somehow blend perfectly with the antique charm of the house. It's beautiful. Cold. Luxurious in a way I'm not used to. At the center of the room, there is an antique looking grey vanity with a huge mirror and a sink.

David turns to me with a gentle smile. "Feel free to use the shower anytime. There's plenty of space in the vanity. I can clear out a drawer for your things, if that makes it easier for you to feel at home."

The offer catches me off guard. It feels… intimate, to be offered a drawer into someone's home. But I don't protest. I nod, murmuring a thank-you, pretending I belong in this strange sanctuary of stone and glass. Like everything else in his home, the bathroom has been renovated with taste. Nothing is accidental in the choices that were made.

"If you'll allow me, I need to take a quick shower." he says, already grabbing stuff to take in the shower with him. "You can go lay on the couch, the bed, or visit the place in calm if you want. I won't be long."

I retreat to his bed, sinking into the covers as I pull out my phone and start scrolling aimlessly on social media. My mind won't stop. I keep circling back to the jar on my bed, the intrusion, the simple thought of someone else in my apartment. Even in this place, this quiet home, I can't quite let go of the feeling that something's still watching me.

The buzz of my phone snaps me back to the present. It's a text from Amy.

Amy: So, was there really a stranger who broke into our apartment? That's kind of terrifying.

I sigh, the knot in my stomach tightening again. I'm still rattled. I tap out a quick reply.

Me: Yeah, I'm still not sure what happened. It's messed up. I feel like I'm constantly looking over my shoulder now.

My thumb hovers over the keyboard. I hesitate. But I can't stop myself from adding more.

Me: It's been a weird few days, and now I'm here at David's. Just trying to keep my head straight… (How did you know about the intrusion?)

Amy's answer is here almost instantly.

Amy: Wait, you're at David's? Like, David David? (Lawrence told me, David wanted me to be warned so I don't come back home alone with a stalker on the loose).

Me: Yes, Amy. That David the one and only. I'm staying at his place tonight.

Amy: I know, but I meant... like, there?? Are you two going to talk about what happened between you? What's going on?

My stomach twists. I'm not ready to have this conversation, especially not over text.

Me: I'll let you know when I have a minute. I'm trying to take this one step at a time.

I set the phone down with a sigh, that familiar wave of anxiety washing over me again. Amy means well, but the questions… the constant questions about David, they make me feel like I have to define something that doesn't even have a shape nor any future. I know what happened between us, but I have no idea what it means. Does he like me but refrain because of our job? Or does he use our job as a pretext?

Just then, the sound of the shower cuts off, followed by the soft creak of footsteps on the floor. I glance up as David steps into the bedroom. His hair is damp and lose, waving slightly around his face, and he's wearing a grey T-shirt and black sweatpants that hang low on his hips. He looks casual, almost too casual. Like the world hasn't been turned upside down in the past twenty-four hours.

"You look comfortable," I say, offering a soft smile.

He gives me a half-smile in return, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, well, after everything today, I needed something that didn't feel so... complicated."

We don't say it aloud, but we both seem to agree… Tonight, we keep things simple.

Pizza becomes the compromise as none of us wants to cook. We settle on the couch in the living room, each holding a plate, the TV on low in the background. I try to relax, to focus on something other than the tight feeling in my chest. But the silence between us keeps stretching, heavier than it should be.

We make small talk, harmless things. Work. Old classes. A book I'd lent him weeks ago that he still hasn't touched. But every word feels wrapped in cotton, every look laced with the weight of what we're not saying. I can feel it in the way his gaze lingers too long as if he can't forgive me for trying to kiss him. I feel it in the way my fingers twitch, wanting to reach for him and not daring to try.

Something's off. And no matter how hard I try, I can't push that feeling away. I tried and got rejected by him. It does not matter why, because it makes all our interactions cringe.