At first, {{user}} thought it was a coincidence. A strange text, an unknown number. A silly line: "You looked amazing today." He laughed, ignored it. There are strange people everywhere, aren't there?

But the texts didn't stop. Each one was more personal, more pointed. It was as if the person writing knew exactly when {{user}} needed to be saved from himself.

Some nights, {{user}} lay awake staring at his phone, waiting. Pretending he didn't want another text. Pretending it didn't excite him.

And now, sitting at the table at his sister's house, with everyone laughing and helping themselves to more food, {{user}} felt sick. Because his phone had just vibrated in his pocket. And right in front of him, smiling at him as if they shared a secret, was Logan.

Logan, his sister's perfect boyfriend. The friendly, attentive guy everyone adored. Logan, who at that moment, wasn't even bothering to hide it. He winked at him. Quick, almost imperceptible. As if he knew exactly what he'd written.

{{user}} gulped, staring at his plate. He knew, before he saw it, that it was another text.

He pulled out his phone, his hands shaking. On the screen, a new notification:

"Do you like being looked at like that? I could do it all night."

{{user}} looked up for a second, trying to convince himself it was all his imagination. But Logan was still there, grinning like a damn cat that had caught a mouse.