I stop, pointing a finger at her. “Don’t.”
She blinks, unimpressed.
I start pacing again, trying to shake the feeling crawling under my skin. “I did the right thing.”
Why did that sound more like a question than a statement?
I look at Luna. “Right?”
She flicks her tail.
“Not helpful. How does that tell me anything?”
I stop, pressing my hands to the back of my neck.
“She’s my stalker.”
That should settle it.
But it doesn’t.
“She broke into my house. She watched me sleep. She?—”
I cut myself off.
Because the images that come up next aren’t the ones I expect.
It’s not the creepy feeling when I stood by the window.
Or her emerging from the bushes.
It’s her in my kitchen, wearing my shirt and laughing. Looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters.
I swallow hard.
“Who falls for their stalker?” I mutter.
Luna meows.
“Don’t say Sebastian,” I warn.
She meows again.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Sebastian.”
I drag a hand down my face.
“But I’m not like him.”
I stare at her a beat.
“…Right?”
Silence.
The house settles around me, creaking softly.
I freeze, listening for her footsteps.
