Page 3 of Reckless Obsession
I don’t move.
I just watch them disappear down the hallway, my heart pounding so hard it feels wrong. I don’t understand why it’s doing this, or why he matters.
But he does.
I move before I can think.
I walk quickly down the hallway and stop in front of the large window overlooking the outdoor court. From here, I can see everything.
Tristan moves as if he belongs to the world. Like it bends slightly around him. Every step is easy, confident. His body knows exactly how to exist in space, how to command attention without asking for it.
I pull my small sketchbook from my jacket without realizing I’m doing it.
I don’t draw people. I hate drawing people.
But him?
My pencil moves on its own.
The way his muscles shift. The sharp line of his jaw. The focus in his eyes when he talks to his brother. I want to memorize and burn every detail of him into my mind so I can recreate him whenever I want.
My pencil struggles to keep up with the way he moves, the way my eyes refuse to look anywhere else. I want to keep him. Preserve him. Trap him on the page so he can’t look away from me again.
Then someone else walks onto the court.
Tristan stops.
Something about him changes.
His expression softens in a way I’ve never seen before, and his body relaxes. Then he smiles, a smile that deepens his dimples.
My hand freezes mid-sketch.
The world tilts as Tristan walks towards the guy and pulls him close. Their foreheads touch. Then their lips.
My heart drops.
No.
That’s wrong.
That shouldn’t be happening.
They pull apart, still close, still smiling at each other as if nothing else exists. Like this is normal. Like this is allowed.
My stomach twists violently.
That look—
I’ve seen it before.
My father looks at my mother like that.
Is that what this is?
Love?
My chest caves in until it hurts, and something ugly crawls up my spine. Heat floods my veins. I don’t understand it, but I want this stranger gone. I want him erased from the space he’s standing in. I want Tristan’s eyes back where they belong.
