Page 243 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

“The night you saw me… I was getting ready to move. To leave this town,” I went on, my voice cracking. “And then I saw you and I just… I couldn’t look away.”

My laugh came out small and broken. “I know how that sounds. I know but from the second I saw you, I knew… I’d never wanted anyone more.”

There was still nothing from him. His face stayed impassive, eyes dark and fixed on mine.

“I started reading about you, watching every news clip I could,” I whispered. “Case logs. Archive reels. Interviews. I memorized the way you tie your boots, the exact brand of coffee you buy, the path you walk to your cottage. I learned to cook your favourite meals because you once mentioned them in a local paper profile. I knew what your old precinct looked like.”

I looked away, wishing he would say something, anything… even if it was to scream at me.

“When I saw you smile at Max, it got worse,” I said quietly. “I found your shift schedule. I knew what time you left the station, what table you sat at during diner lunches, which route you took to the records room. I followed you every day, not close enough to get caught. Just close enough to breathe the same air or watch over you.”

His jaw flexed, but he didn’t speak.

“I hung around the grocery store just to see you pass,” I whispered. “I sat in the dark parking lot across from the station for every late shift. I recorded the audio from your televised press briefings and played it on loop so I could fall asleep.”

My chest ached. The words spilled faster, a torrent of raw truth.

“I stole your hat from the truck, kept your discarded coffee cup in a Ziploc so I could touch where your lips had been. I wore one of your old jerseys under my clothes for days straight, slept in it and came in it.”

His silence was suffocating. A tear slipped down my cheek, hot and humiliating. There was a frown on his lips now, but I still couldn’t read it. I pulled myself off the floor, never taking my eyes off him. I was afraid if I did, he would be gone.

“I love you, or that is what I think love is. I have never known love or comfort.” I said, the words small and trembling at first, then stronger, like they’d been waiting years to be spoken. “These past few days with you… they’ve been the best of my life. Every second, every breath, every heartbeat. I didn’t say it before because love isn’t big enough because I don’t think I love you, but I think you are my obsession. Like I told you I am nothing without you. My heart attached to yours that night. You’re my honey, Elias. My everything and no one, no one on this earth, will ever obsess over you the way I do.”

For a heartbeat, the world went still. There was just the sound of my pulse thrumming in my ears and the sting of tears on my cheeks. Elias's eyes closed. His jaw flexed once, like he was fighting something he didn’t have a name for. A shiver ran through him, barely there, but enough that I saw it. When he finally opened his eyes again, they looked… wilder. Darker.

“Have you done something like this before?” he finally asked in an even, blank voice.

The question cut through the space between us, gentle but direct, and it made my stomach twist. My lip quivered. If I told him, he might think…

But his gaze didn’t waver. “The truth, Seraphina.”

I swallowed hard, my throat aching. “No, I have never been obsessed over someone before but...”

I hesitated, but when he didn’t say anything, I kept going.

“I was obsessed over dead bodies," I whispered. “Murders, killers.” My laugh came out thin and cracked. “Since I was young and saw my grandmother dead before my eyes it fascinated me. The way our bodies die. How our cells contract and spasm for the last time. I… I wanted to know what happened inside the body, so I took a knife and I started to cut open her skin to see if blood really looks that red. It was the reason why my mother took me away; took me to an orphanage and said I do not belong… That I deserve what I would get.”

I finally met his eyes again, desperate for him to understand the depth of it. “But this—” I pressed a shaking hand against my chest, taking a step closer to the bed. “This isn’t that. I swear it’s not. With you, it’s different. I don’t just want to watch you, Elias. I want to belong to you.”

I took a step closer.

“With you, it’s different. I don’t feel broken when I think about you. I feel alive. You make everything quiet. You make everything make sense.”

My voice dropped so low that I wasn’t sure he could hear it.

The detective cocked his head, watching me like he was trying to decide what kind of creature I was. The weight of his silence pressed down until I thought I might shatter just to fill it.

“Please, Elias” I whispered finally. “Say something.”

He didn’t. His jaw worked once, like he was biting back every word that wanted out. The quiet between us roared, heavy with the secrets we both kept.

“I know you probably want to run,” I whispered.

“And maybe you should. You’re the detective, and I... I am what I am.” My chest rose too fast, my pulse fluttering against my throat.

“But I don’t know if I can let you go, you would have to kill me for me to let you go.”

He exhaled roughly, a sound that was half-frustration and half-surrender. He took a sudden, predatory step toward me, closing the distance until I could feel the heat radiating off him. He reached out, his hand hovering near my throat before his fingers threaded into my hair, tilting my head back so I had no choice but to meet his gaze.