Page 35 of Hidden

“Am I missing something?” Declan asks.

“It’s nothing.” I take a sip of my coffee and Mason laughs, he looks over to where Sadie is.

“Well that nothing keeps looking over here, and…”

“Can we change the…”

“Come on, Miles, tell Declan who the pretty girl is,” Mason jokes.

“Fuck off.” I drink my coffee already knowing this will be the first of many. It’s going to be a long day.

“Oh, are you having a little fun?” Declan looks over my shoulder at Sadie. “She’s out of your league.”

I ignore him and take the last sip of my coffee before getting up and walking to the counter to order another. This time I add a few extra pumps of sugar. It’s going to be a long day, but seeing Sadie up close, I know how my night will end. I smile to myself, take my coffee and follow my brothers out of Grounds. On the way out I lift my cup to Sadie and she smiles. Fuck those lips are so tempting.

I'm going to enjoy my time with her.

***

I can’t sleep, I’m reading more files, and it’s fucking up my head. Sleeping is the last thing I want to do.

I know I wanted to come here. I wanted to come earlier, but the files took over, and I lost track of time. But right now, there’s only one place I want to be, and that’s close to Sadie. Just for a short while, but long enough to steady the itch crawling under my skin. Because the itch of being so close to her this morning has gotten worse as the day has passed.

I slide the swipe card through the reader. It beeps once, with a soft green light of approval, and the lock releases with an obedient click. At four in the morning, the hallway is quiet, the only sound is coming from the low mechanical hum of a vending machine.

I step inside her dorm and guide the door shut behind me, letting the latch catch silently.

The air inside wraps around me immediately, it’s warm, intimate, and carrying the faint sweetness of a cinnamon candle she must have lit earlier. I stand there for a second, breathing it in. This is my space now. Hers and mine.

First, I move to the kitchen counter. The old violets are still perfect, their petals vibrant and full under the low range hood light I flick on. They don’t need replacing, but I want her to wake up to something touched by me tonight, something fresher. I lift the old vase anyway, pour the water down the sink in a thin, controlled stream, and set the new bunch which I picked up on the way here, and place them in. They are deeper purple this time, almost bruised at the edges, their stems trimmed with the small knife I keep in my pocket.

My footsteps stay silent on the thin dorm carpet as I drift through the living area. Her laptop sits closed on the desk, my backdoor nestled safely inside its circuits, feeding me every keystroke, and every late-night search. I won't open it tonight. I don’t need to. I already know what she’ll type when she wakes up.

Her bedroom door stands ajar. I smile, this is her invite for me, she just doesn’t know it yet. I push it wider with two fingers.

There she is.

Sadie lies curled on her side facing the door, the thin blue comforter slipped down to her hips like it’s trying to expose her for me. One bare leg peeks out, her skin smooth in the faint hallway glow. The strap of her faded tank top has twisted, revealing the delicate line of her collarbone and the slow, steady rise and fall of her ribs. Her lips are parted just enough that I can see the faint gleam of moisture there. She looks innocent, and she’s completely unaware. She’s perfect.

I stop at the foot of the bed and simply watch, letting the minutes dissolve. The room smells like warm skin and sleep, like her shampoo on the pillow and the faint trace of the lotion she rubs into her hands before lights out. Every breath she takes pulls something tighter in my chest. She has no idea how close I am. How easily I could reach out and brush the stray hair from her cheek.

I let myself stay longer than last time. Counting the subtle flutter of her pulse at the side of her neck. Memorizing the way her fingers twitch once against the pillow in some private dream.

Her camera rests on the nightstand; the strap is tangled around the half-empty water glass like last time. I pick it up, and turn the body toward the bed, framing the shot carefully in the viewfinder, my face is half in shadow from the hallway light, my jaw is tight, but she won’t see my face, not with my mask on. I’ll be hidden from her. My eyes are locked straight into the lens while Sadie sleeps soft and vulnerably behind me, her body filling the background like she belongs exactly there. The shutter sounds once, a quiet mechanical sigh that feels louder than it should. I check the screen. The image is flawless. Me, sharp and present. Her, exposed and mine.

I set the camera back down exactly as I found it; strap twisted the same careless way. One final look at the gentle rise of her chest, then I back out of the room, pulling the door to its familiar ajar position.

The front door closes behind me with a muted click. I slip the swipe card back into my pocket as I walk down the empty hall, already thinking about the next time.

Nine

Sadie

God, I want to throw my alarm clock across the room, but I can’t because my alarm clock is also my phone. Throwing the cover off, I sit up on my bed and get up to get the coffee going.

The moment I open the door, I freeze.

New flowers.