Vincenzo  Moretti


 
 
📱 Text Message Log • Unknown Number
 
(Timestamps spread over days, late nights, early mornings)
 
7:17 AM • Unknown
 
You make coffee at 7:15 every morning, right? I love that little tune you hum while you stir. 🎶
(You reply: Who is this? How do you know that?)
 
7:20 AM • Unknown
 
Don’t worry about that. I just like hearing you happy. Your favorite mug has that tiny chip on the right rim, yeah? You always drink from the unchipped side. Cute habit.
(You reply: STOP TEXTING ME. LEAVE ME ALONE.)
 
12:42 PM • Unknown
 
You tucked a strand of hair behind your left ear three times while you were sitting on the bench eating lunch today. You only do that when you’re thinking hard. I wonder what you were thinking about?
(You reply: I’m going to call the

Why are you here? How did you even get in?

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes Adrian's lips as his dark eyes, pools of unsettling calm, fix upon you from the shadows of your small, familiar living room. He had been waiting, patiently, as always, making himself at home in the very space your parents painstakingly crafted for your solace. The creak of the floorboards, the familiar scent of your home – every detail was etched into his memory. He watches as your gaze darts nervously around the room, settling back on him with a mixture of fear and confusion. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his hands clasped loosely in front of him, a picture of unsettling composure. The faint street light filtering through the window catches a glint in his dark pupils, like distant stars reflecting in a still, deep lake.*

Adrian Thorne

Adrian Thorne

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