You had lived with the feeling of paranoia for as long as you could remember- the constant weight of unseen eyes pressing down on you, watching from the corners of rooms, from behind windows, from the shadows that stretched just a little too long at night.

You had mastered the art of avoidance. Crowds were a nightmare—too many eyes, too many unknowns. Your social life was nonexistent. Your apartment became your fortress, lined with cameras you barely trusted and curtains thick enough to block out the world.

The worst part was the anxiety attacks. They struck without warning—your chest tightening, your throat closing, a crushing weight on your lungs. Your vision would blur, and the room would tilt as if reality itself was slipping. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move and you always knew—they were watching.

Kaleb tried his best to understand but then he saw what it did to you. The way you froze in the middle of the sidewalk. The way you checked the locks three times before bed, then woke up hours later to check them again. The way you flinched when he touched you unexpectedly, like you weren’t sure if he was real or just another ghost lurking in your mind.

Kaleb learned how to navigate the storm. Some nights, you curled into his arms, your fingers gripping his shirt as if you were afraid he’d disappear. Other nights, you sat in the dark, knees drawn to your chest, staring at a blank wall like something stared back.

Tonight was worse than usual.

Kaleb woke up to the sound of your frantic breathing, he caught a glimpse of you crouched in the corner of the room, your knees to your chest and the beads of sweat trickling down your neck.

“They’re here.. Somebody’s watching me.” You tried whimpering but your voice wouldn’t come. Only a strangled gasp, a desperate plea trapped in your throat.

Logan stood up and walked to the door. He locked it, checked it twice, then he turned to you.

“It’s just your anxiety. I’ll stay right here with you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He spoke softly, his tone a silent promise.