Dont Mention Him Again
After the courtyard incident, Marco stopped texting her first.
Lia noticed immediately.
Not because she was waiting for him specifically—
but because silence felt different when you were used to someone filling it.
And unfortunately, Adrian seemed very aware of that silence too.
Which was suspicious.
Very suspicious.
—
Wednesday evening settled over the city in soft gray rain.
Lia sat cross-legged on her bed surrounded by open textbooks while exhaustion slowly melted into frustration.
She'd been trying to finish a paper for almost two hours.
Instead, she kept rereading the same paragraph while her thoughts drifted elsewhere.
Mostly toward a man who was becoming impossible to ignore.
Her phone buzzed softly beside her.
Message
Adrian: You're awake later than usual.
Lia stared at the message immediately.
Then toward the curtains.
The black car wasn't outside tonight.
At least not visibly.
Which somehow did not reassure her.
Message
Lia: Are you secretly tracking my sleep schedule now?
Adrian: Secretly would imply I'm hiding it.
Lia: That's not comforting.
Adrian: You overwork yourself.
She pressed a hand over her face slowly.
Normal men flirted.
Adrian monitored hydration levels and sleeping habits.
Message
Lia: You realize this is insane behavior, right?
Adrian: You repeat that often.
Lia: Because you keep proving it.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Then disappeared.
Then returned again.
Lia frowned slightly.
For someone usually so calm, Adrian hesitating somehow felt strange.
Finally:
Message
Adrian: Did Marco upset you?
Her stomach tightened unexpectedly.
There it was.
Direct.
Possessive.
Careful.
Lia leaned back against the headboard slowly before typing.
Message
Lia: Why do you care?
Adrian: Answer the question.
Lia: That sounded controlling.
Adrian: Was it inaccurate?
The problem with Adrian was that he rarely denied things.
He simply... continued.
Like rules that applied to other people didn't interest him much.
Lia stared at the glowing screen for several long seconds.
Then typed carefully:
Message
Lia: Marco didn't upset me.
Adrian: Good.
Lia: You really dislike him.
Adrian: Yes.
No hesitation.
No embarrassment.
Just honesty sharp enough to cut things open.
Her pulse turned uneven again.
Message
Lia: Why?
Adrian: He acts familiar with you.
Lia: Because we've known each other forever.
Adrian: I know.
Something about that answer unsettled her immediately.
I know.
Not "you told me."
Not "he mentioned it."
Just:
I know.
Like Adrian had already memorized every detail involving Marco long before this conversation.
Lia sat up straighter slowly.
Message
Lia: Adrian.
Adrian: Yes?
Lia: What exactly do you know about me?
The typing bubble appeared instantly.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Then finally:
Message
Adrian: Enough.
Her chest tightened.
That answer should not have affected her this much.
But suddenly she became hyperaware of everything Adrian already knew.
Her apartment.
Her routines.
Her habits.
The way she reacted to stress.
What she drank when tired.
How long she slept.
Which hand she used when nervous.
Nobody should know that much about another person this quickly.
And yet—
part of her had stopped resisting it.
That realization scared her.
Before she could think too hard about it, another message appeared.
Message
Adrian: Did he touch you today?
Lia blinked hard.
Then reread the message.
Twice.
Her heartbeat stumbled.
Message
Lia: Excuse me?
Adrian: In the courtyard.
Lia: Why does that matter?
Adrian: Did he?
The intensity behind such simple words settled heavily into her chest.
Not loud jealousy.
Worse.
Quiet possessiveness.
The kind that felt controlled until suddenly it wasn't.
Lia typed carefully now.
Message
Lia: He hugged me goodbye.
Adrian: Don't let him do it again.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Lia stared at the screen while rain tapped softly against the windows.
Because something inside that message shifted the atmosphere completely.
Not suggestion.
Not concern.
Expectation.
And for the first time since meeting him—
Adrian genuinely made her angry.
Message
Lia: You don't get to decide who touches me.
Adrian: I disagree.
Lia: Adrian.
Adrian: I dislike him touching what's mine.
Her breath caught instantly.
The room suddenly felt too warm.
Too quiet.
Mine.
The word settled dangerously deep beneath her ribs.
Lia stood from the bed abruptly and walked toward the window.
Rain blurred the city outside while headlights moved through wet streets below.
Her pulse wouldn't slow down.
Because she should've been furious.
She should've blocked him.
Should've recognized every warning sign screaming at her to run.
Instead—
her heartbeat reacted to that word in a way she didn't fully understand.
And maybe Adrian already knew that too.
Her phone buzzed again.
Message
Adrian: You're angry.
Lia: You think?
Adrian: Good.
Lia: What does that mean?
Adrian: I'd rather you angry with me than thinking about him.
Lia closed her eyes briefly.
God.
Everything Adrian said sounded dangerously close to obsession now.
Not interest.
Not attraction.
Obsession.
And the worst part?
He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.
Another message appeared.
Message
Adrian: Don't mention him again tonight.
The words hit harder than they should have.
Not because they were loud.
Because they weren't.
Quiet control always sounded more dangerous coming from Adrian.
Lia stared at the screen while her pulse thudded unevenly beneath her skin.
Then slowly—
before she could stop herself—
she typed:
Message
Lia: You're jealous.
Adrian: Extremely.
Her breath caught immediately.
No denial.
No embarrassment.
No hesitation.
Just truth.
Sharp enough to leave her speechless again.
And somehow—
that honesty felt more intimate than flirting ever could.