Elara didn't sleep that night.
She told herself she had dreamed it all — that fatigue and too many true crime podcasts had finally made her lose her mind — but every time she opened her eyes he was there. Those golden eyes that shouldn't be, that voice coiling around her name as if it were his.
She abandoned sleep at some point near the rising sun and glanced out her bedroom window. Outside that was barely the lake, glimpsed through the trees. It looked calm, normal. But her thoughts wouldn't stop rolling his statement repeatedly in her head.
"Because you keep calling me."
She didn't have faith in things that she couldn't see. No angels. No fate. Not destiny. But he was no ordinary guy, not even close — nor was the way the air bent around him.
Elara ran a thumb over the black feather she'd found, still sitting on her desk beside her coffee mug. It should've been cold by now, but it wasn't. It pulsed faintly with warmth, like something alive.
"Maybe it's radioactive," she muttered laughing a little that wasn't really laugh.
Her phone buzzed — a message from Mia.
Mia: still up for the library shift? don't ghost me again 😤
Elara blinked at the screen. She'd completely forgotten. "Yeah," she said to herself. "Normal day. Act like last night never happened."
She stuffed the feather into her desk drawer and snatched up her coat.
The library was still that morning — as small-town libraries usually were. Dust swirled through lukewarm sunlight streaming in from the tall windows. Somewhere in the background the ancient heater buzzed like a drowsy creature.
Mia leaned on the check-out desk, chewing on a pen cap. "Looks like you got beaten up by insomnia again."
Elara gave a feeble smile. "You could say that."
"Nightmares?"
She paused. "Something like that."
Mia gave her a look — half worry, half teasing. "You've been off lately. Like… distracted."
Elara shrugged and began to stack returned books on the cart. "Just tired." "Just fatigued."
They worked in silence for a time. It was on the verge of making Elara forget — until she saw it.
The lights flickered. Just once. Then again, longer.
Mia groaned. "Great. Not this again!"
The bulbs centered, but the atmosphere was different — heavier, like an invisibility had entered the room. Elara's fingers tightened around the book
She turned toward the glass wall that looked out onto the street. There — faintly reflected between the bookshelves — a figure outside. Tall. Still. Watching.
Her stomach dropped.
She blinked, and he was gone.
"Elara?"
Mia's voice broke through. You okay?"
"Yeah. " She forced a smile. "I thought I saw someone."
"You mean your stalker fantasy guy?" Mia teased.
Elara rolled her eyes, but her heart wouldn't slow down.
By midday, she was already telling herself that she was overreacting. The street outside was deserted aside from cars and a delivery van. She piled the last of the books and went to the back office to get her bag.
But she froze when she opened the door.
The desk had the feather on it.
The very feather that she had left back home – in a locked drawer.
It sat in the middle of the desk, as if someone had wanted to put it there. The faint gold shimmer traced along the veins again, pulsing.
Elara's breath quivered. "
"Okay," she whispered. "That's not possible."
She stretched out. As soon as her fingers touched it, her hand was filled with warmth followed by heat, sharp and sudden. She gasped and dropped it. The feather fell to the floor and burst into flames in a small, silent flash of light.
And then — nothing. Not ash. Not smoke. Just gone.
"Elara?"
Mia's voice came from down the hall.
Elara took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "Yeah! Coming!"
She looked for that one more heartbeat at the empty space before snatching up her bag and bolt out of room.
By noon she was marshalling her thoughts and telling herself she was being hysterical. The street outside was deserted except for cars and a delivery truck. She tidied the last of the books and headed to the back office to collect her bag.
But she stopped in her tracks when she opened the door.
The feather was on the table.
The very same feather she'd left at home — in a locked drawer.
It sat in the middle of the desk as if somebody really wanted it to be there. The soft golden gleam trailed along the strains again, pulsating.
Elara's breath trembled.
She whispered, "Okay", but that's not possible."
You reached out. When her hands touched it, heat washed over her — then there was fire, intense and immediate. She gasped and let it go. The feather struck the ground and flared up in a tiny, noiseless burst of light.
Then— nothing. Not ash. Not smoke. Just gone.
"Elara?"
Mia's voice drifted down the hall.
Elara swallowed, trying to steady her voice. "Yeah! Coming!"
She kept looking at the void for one more heartbeat before snatching up her bag and dashing out of the room.
The walk home felt extra-long. The sky had darkened and the afternoon was turning gray. A storm was on its way — she could smell rain in the air.
The wind was rising when she came to the lake trail. She told herself not to and then looked toward the water anyway.
Near the center, something shimmered.
It wasn't a reflection this time. It was motion – a tiny flicker of light beneath the surface, as though someone were breathing under the water.
Elara's chest tightened. "No," she whispered. "Not again."
But her feet deceived her and carried her nearer til she stood on the brink again.
The air thickened. The same feeling as before — electric, weightless, charged with presence.
And then, behind her, the voice returned.
"You don't listen."
She spun around.
But this time she was there again, closer than ever before — so near that she could glimpse the her coat, she could see his eyes in the dark.
Elara took a shaky step back. "How— how did you—"
"You shouldn't have touched it."
"The feather?"
He nodded once. "It wasn't meant for you. "
Her anger flared through the fear. "Then stop leaving things in my house!"
His expression darkened. "I don't leave them. They find you."
"That makes no sense."
"It will."
There was that same serene assurance — maddening and terrifying all at once.
Elara crossed her arms over her chest, attempting to conceal the shaking in her hands. "You can't just—show up like this. I don't even know who you are."
"You don't have to."
"I think I do."
His eyes softened again — the very same expression last night, half sorrow, half restraint. "Knowing me will destroy you."
Her breath caught. "Are you trying to frighten me?"
"No." He made a step toward her, and the air around her seemed to hum. "It's meant to save you."
Neither of them moved for a moment. The rain started to fall, thin and silver like a veil between them. She could smell the storm on his coat — it wasn't rain, not really, but ozone, pungent and electric.
"Why me?" she whispered. "Why are you here?"
Then he looked at her — really looked at her — and there was something about his gaze that made her chest tighten.
"Because I can't keep away."
And before she could speak, the wind picked up once more and she was blinded by the rain and light — and he disappeared. This time she didn't.