(Jay's POV)
We didn't talk much about where we were going.
Keifer just drove.
And I didn't ask.
A few minutes later, he pulled over near a small café—not too crowded, just enough people to make it feel normal.
"Breakfast," he said simply.
I nodded. "Good. I'm starving."
That part—at least—was normal.
We went inside, ordered something quick—coffee and a few small things—and sat across from each other near the window.
For a while, it felt… easy.
I took a sip of my coffee, watching him over the rim of the cup. He looked calmer than last night, but not fully relaxed.
Like something in him was still switched on.
"You're thinking too much again," I said.
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm eating."
"That doesn't mean you're not thinking."
He looked at me. "You're talking too much."
"That's because you're being weird."
"I'm always weird."
I rolled my eyes slightly, but a small smile slipped through anyway.
For a moment—
it almost felt normal again.
Then his expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just slightly.
But I noticed.
His eyes shifted past me.
Toward the glass.
Toward something outside.
I frowned a little. "What?"
"Nothing," he said.
That was enough for me to turn.
And the moment I did—
my chest tightened.
Him.
The same guy.
Standing across the road.
Not moving.
Not doing anything.
Just… watching.
Again.
I turned back immediately. "Keif—"
"I saw him."
Of course he did.
"How long has he been there?"
"Long enough."
I swallowed slightly, my fingers tightening around the cup.
"He's not even trying to hide it."
"I know."
"Why is he just standing there?"
"He's waiting."
"For what?"
He didn't answer that.
That scared me more.
I looked back again—
just for a second—
and that's when it happened.
He wasn't there anymore.
Gone.
Just—
gone.
I blinked, sitting up a little. "Where did he go?"
Keifer turned this time, looking outside properly.
Nothing.
No one.
"He was just there," I said quickly.
"I know."
"Keif—he didn't even walk away, I didn't see him move—"
"I know."
That calm tone again.
Too calm.
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself.
"I don't like this."
"I know."
"You keep saying that."
"Because I do."
I stared at him for a second.
He wasn't panicking.
He wasn't confused.
He was just… watching everything.
Like he expected this.
That didn't help.
At all.
I looked down at my coffee, then back at him.
"…let's go somewhere else."
"Where?"
I hesitated for a second.
Then—
"The park," I said. "Just… somewhere open."
He didn't question it.
Didn't argue.
Just nodded once.
"Okay."
I stood up, grabbing my bag, not even finishing the coffee.
He followed right after me.
And as we stepped out of the café—
I couldn't help but look around again.
Left.
Right.
Behind.
Nothing.
But it didn't feel empty.
Not really.
Because now—
I knew.
He wasn't just someone we saw once.
He was still there.
Somewhere.
Watching.
And this time—
I couldn't pretend it was nothing anymore.
By the time we reached the park, I didn't realize how much I needed the open air until I stepped out of the car.
It felt… lighter.
Not completely safe.
But better than before.
We walked in without saying much, the gravel path crunching softly under our steps. There weren't too many people around—just a few here and there—which somehow made it easier to breathe.
"Better?" Keifer asked, glancing at me.
"A little," I admitted.
He nodded once, like that was enough for now.
We kept walking, slow, no real direction. And then, without saying anything, he moved closer—his arm sliding around my shoulders, pulling me gently into him.
I didn't even think about it.
I just went with it.
My hand rested against his back, holding onto him lightly as we walked.
"Now?" he asked again.
I looked up at him. "…yeah. Better."
"Told you."
"You didn't tell me anything."
"I implied."
"That doesn't count."
"Everything I say counts."
I rolled my eyes. "You're so full of yourself."
"And you still walked closer."
I didn't reply.
Because he wasn't wrong.
Instead, I nudged him slightly with my shoulder.
He nudged back.
"Careful," he said.
"You started it."
"I finished it too."
"Oh really?"
I pushed him a little harder this time.
He caught it instantly, steadying me without effort.
"See?" he said. "You're weak."
"I am not weak."
"You are."
"I will push you again."
"Try."
I did.
And he just laughed softly, pulling me closer instead, not letting me go far this time.
"Not happening," he murmured.
I huffed, but couldn't stop the small smile forming.
We kept walking like that—
close,
pushing each other lightly,
laughing in between.
For a moment—
it didn't feel like anything was wrong.
Like there wasn't someone watching.
Like there wasn't something waiting.
It was just—
us.
And honestly—
that was enough.