" Isabella's Point of View "
I couldn't focus. Not really.
The bar felt… off. Smaller, louder, brighter. Every sound seemed sharper, every shadow longer. My hands shook slightly as I wiped down the counter, stacked glasses, tried to act normal—but normal had fled the moment he appeared. Sid.
Even thinking about him made my pulse spike. That low, controlled voice. The way he moved, like he owned everything around him without trying. His eyes—dark, calculating, knowing—had seen straight through me. And I hated that I could still feel it. My chest tightened every time I replayed that moment, my stomach fluttering in a way that made me question my own instincts.
"Isa, you okay?" Marco's voice cut through the fog of my thoughts. His brow was raised, eyes sharp.
I forced a smile. "Yeah. Fine."
"Uh-huh," he said, clearly unconvinced. He moved away, but I could feel his gaze lingering, like he knew something I didn't want anyone else to see.
I sank onto a bar stool during my break, letting the noise of the bar blur into white noise. My hands gripped the edge of the counter as the memory of him replayed like a film I couldn't pause. The intensity in his eyes. The way he'd leaned slightly closer, just enough to make my skin tingle. The way he had claimed the room without touching a thing.
And yet, he hadn't said much. Just enough.
"You've been quiet all shift," Lira said, setting a plate of pastries in front of me. Her casual tone couldn't hide the concern in her eyes. "Everything okay at home?"
I shook my head, forcing a laugh. "Everything's fine."
She hesitated, watching me for a moment longer before moving on. Some things you couldn't explain. Especially not someone like him.
The rest of the shift passed in a blur. Complaints, laughter, clinking glasses. But even amid the routine, I felt it—an invisible weight pressing at the back of my neck, like someone was watching me. My instincts screamed at me to look over my shoulder. To run. But no one was there. Not yet.
After closing, I walked home slowly, but my usual comfort in the quiet Manila streets was gone. Shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally, alleys darker than they had any right to be. Every passing car, every figure in the distance, made me tense. I told myself I was imagining it, but the gnawing unease wouldn't leave.
Somewhere in the city, Sid was out there. Waiting. Watching. And the thought both terrified and… thrilled me.
By the time I reached my apartment, I was sweating, heart hammering. I locked the door behind me, leaned against it, and closed my eyes. I wanted normalcy. I wanted my predictable life back. I wanted the fear, the tension, the pull he left behind to vanish.
But I knew it wouldn't.
Sid had marked me. Not physically, not yet. But in every corner of my mind, in every shadow I glimpsed on the streets, in every rapid beat of my heart—he was there. And I hated that part of me that wanted him to stay.
Some fires didn't burn out. Some shadows never left.
And Sid… Sid was both.