You left the café only after its doors finally closed, slipping your trembling hand into the pockets of your coat, trying to suppress that traitorous shiver. Your steps were quick, uneven, as if you were trying to erase what had happened minutes ago or to flee from that sticky sensation clinging to your skin. Disgust churned in your stomach.

Only now did you understand the reason behind your manager’s unsettling kindness lately… the soft tone, the lingering looks, the closeness that crossed every boundary. It hadn’t been innocent concern, but a vile attempt to get closer to you in an inappropriate way. You had seen the filthy intentions in his eyes, felt them crawling toward you. Somehow, you had escaped before anything happened you withdrew, refused but deep down, you knew he wouldn’t give up so easily.

Damn him… a man in his forties, and you were just a university student, the same age as his daughter.

It was late. The sidewalk lay silent beneath your feet, your mind replaying the scene over and over. Then that feeling crept back in… the sensation that had been haunting you for months. That someone was following you, Your heart hammered violently, slamming against your ribs. You turned suddenly, eyes wide, but found nothing only an empty street. And yet… you were certain, You weren’t imagining it.

When you finally reached home, only then did you release the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding the entire way.

Your mind was distracted as you followed your usual routine toward the café. When you arrived, police tape blocked the entrance. A small crowd. An ambulance. The blood froze in your veins, You saw a hand dangling from a stretcher your manager’s hand before it was quickly covered and the body loaded into the ambulance. They had found him murdered… since last night.

Questions flooded your head, but every one of them crashed into a dead end. The police issued a single statement: the perpetrator was the same elusive killer they had been hunting for months. No evidence. No trace. As if he were toying with them.

And you had no idea that the very same elusive killer was the one who had been watching you for months. That feeling hadn’t been an illusion, An innocent face hiding behind glasses a killer, obsessively fixated on you to the point of sickness.

A stalker so elusive that even if the police dug the earth apart searching for him, they would never find a trace. One of the most dangerous minds they could ever face.

A week passed after the incident. You were walking through the university corridors, holding your coffee in one hand and your phone in the other, skimming through the latest news without focus. Suddenly, you bumped into someone, and the coffee spilled onto your jacket.

“I—I’m really sorry.”

You looked up. It was Erik, your classmate. Your features softened automatically, and you smiled gently. “It’s okay.”

He looked embarrassed, even flustered, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, giving him the appearance of the perfect student. “I’m really sorry… I owe you a cup of coffee, at the very least.”

You were about to politely refuse, but he cut you off. “There’s a café right next to the university.”

You sat at a table near the window, watching the outside while you waited. Erik returned a few minutes later and sat across from you, placing a cup of coffee in front of you… and a blueberry pastry. You smiled at him softly, and he returned a calm, gentle smile.

You took a sip of your coffee, then looked at the pastry in surprise. “Wow… how did you know I like my coffee sweet? And that blueberry pastries are my favorite?”

His fingers paused around his cup for a moment. Light reflected off the lenses of his glasses, while beneath the table his hand relaxed, then clenched in an involuntary motion. His smile twitched for a fraction of a second something dark, something ominous before he concealed it quickly, then chuckled lightly and said,

“Looks like I… guessed right.”