After his encounter with Flora at the mall that night, Peter was overwhelmed by a sense of unease he had never experienced before.
The feeling was like a thick fog wrapping around his mind—making it hard to think clearly, hard to breathe freely, even hard to simply close his eyes.
He sat in a leather chair in his spacious room, a dim light hanging from the ceiling, casting his reflection onto the large glass across the room.
But what he saw was not himself—it was the image of Flora.
The Flora from the past… and the Flora of now.
The change was far too drastic.
A complete one hundred and eighty degrees.
Back then, Flora had been just an ordinary girl at school.
Her hair was often tied carelessly, her clothes simple, and she didn’t seem to care much about her appearance.
And yet, she possessed a natural beauty—tall, slender, with an almost perfect figure.
She was quiet, awkward, and often the subtle target of her classmates’ teasing.
But behind all that, Flora was always there for Peter—always smiling, always caring, always faithfully waiting.
And Peter… had chosen her as his girlfriend, perhaps out of mere whim.
But not for Flora.
She loved him sincerely.
Peter’s thoughts drifted back to that time—the moment when everything changed.
The day Leony first arrived at their school.
She had just transferred into their second year, yet she managed to stir the entire school.
The once dull atmosphere suddenly came alive.
All eyes were drawn to the new girl—Leony, a mixed Indo-Belarusian beauty with fair skin, sharp gray eyes, and light brown-blonde hair that fell gracefully over her shoulders.
She was like the main character in a movie.
And Peter, like most teenagers, was captivated without resistance.
Leony was different.
She was cheerful, spontaneous, and had an aura that was impossible to ignore.
In a short time, she became the center of attention—the star of the school.
Everyone wanted to be close to her, including Peter.
From that moment on, Peter slowly drifted away from Flora.
Not because Flora had done anything wrong.
But because Peter was blinded by something that seemed more appealing.
He chose Leony.
He chose what shined… and abandoned what was sincere.
The memory made Peter clench his fists.
“Stupid…” he muttered softly.
He stood up and began pacing around his room, trying to shake off the restlessness that haunted him.
But with every step he took, the image of Flora only became clearer.
The Flora he had met that night was no longer the girl he once knew.
She had transformed into someone… extraordinary.
Her appearance was elegant.
Her way of speaking was calm and confident.
Her movements were graceful, like a woman who fully understood her worth.
Her face—which had always been beautiful—now radiated a mature charm.
Flora now resembled a high-class celebrity.
And what disturbed Peter the most was… the cold aura she exuded.
There was no longer the warm gaze he used to receive.
No more sincere smile that was once only for him.
What remained was distance.
A distance that felt immeasurably far.
Peter stopped in front of the window, staring at the city that was still alive despite the late hour.
The lights of the buildings shimmered like stars fallen to earth.
But that beauty failed to distract his thoughts.
He began to compare.
Flora… and Leony.
Leony was undeniably beautiful.
Her mixed heritage made her stand out wherever she went.
But the longer Peter had been with her, the more he began to realize something he had once ignored.
Leony was childish.
She was spoiled, emotional, and overly dependent on her mother.
In many ways, she lacked independence.
She often complained about trivial things and constantly needed attention.
At first, it felt cute.
But over time… it became exhausting.
Their relationship, once enjoyable, gradually turned into a burden.
And in the end, Leony left.
Without much explanation.Without regret.
She left Peter with an emptiness he had never truly acknowledged… until now.
Peter let out a long breath.
Now, as he saw Flora again, it was as if he had found something he had lost.
Flora was not just beautiful.
She was mature.
She was strong.
She was… different.
And that difference only made her more appealing.
A faint smile formed on Peter’s lips.
But slowly, that smile turned into something deeper—something darker.
Fantasies began to creep into his mind.
He imagined speaking closely with Flora… sitting together in a quiet place… laughing like they used to.
Then the image shifted.
More intimate.
More personal.
He imagined touching her hand, feeling its warmth.
Imagining their eyes meeting without distance.
Imagining Flora becoming his again.
The thought made his heart beat faster.
Peter closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself.
But instead of fading, the images only became clearer.
“Flora…” he whispered softly.
He was certain.
This was not just imagination.
He was used to getting what he wanted.
Since childhood, his life had always gone according to his wishes.
He was the son of a wealthy conglomerate family—money was never an issue, status never an obstacle.
His looks were handsome, his confidence high, and his influence strong.
Girls always came easily to him.
He never really had to try.
Everything came… on its own.
And because of that, Peter believed—
Flora would return to him.
Sooner or later.
But that night…
That belief began to be tested.
Peter picked up his phone, staring at the screen displaying Flora’s number.
He had saved it earlier, with a bit of effort and the connections he possessed.
Without hesitation, he pressed the call button.
The dialing tone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then… it disconnected.
Peter frowned.
He tried again.
The result was the same.
No answer.
He took a breath, trying to stay calm.
Maybe Flora was busy.
Maybe she hadn’t seen the call.
But when he tried for the third time—the phone immediately showed that the number was unreachable.
As if it had been turned off.
An uneasy feeling began to creep in.
Peter stared sharply at his phone screen, as if expecting the result to change if he stared long enough.
But nothing changed.
Flora… could not be reached.
He tossed the phone onto the bed in frustration.
“What the hell…” he muttered.
He began pacing again—walking, stopping, then walking again—unable to stay still.
Something was bothering him.
Something he didn’t like.
All this time… no one had ever ignored him like this.
Even Leony had always responded to him, no matter how busy she was.
But Flora…
As if… she didn’t care.
The thought stabbed at his pride.
Curiosity turned into obsession.
Obsession turned into need.
Peter picked up his phone again.
He opened his messaging app.
Typed something.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
Deleted it.
He didn’t know how to begin.
“Flora, it’s me, Peter…”
Too ordinary.
“It’s been a long time since we last met…”
Too cliché.
He exhaled deeply and threw the phone again.
“Why is this so hard…” he muttered in frustration.
Time passed.
The clock showed two in the morning.
But Peter was still awake.
Every time he tried to close his eyes, Flora’s image returned—her smile, her eyes, the way she spoke.
And what disturbed him the most was… her coldness.
That was not the Flora he once knew.
And precisely because of that… he wanted her even more.
Peter finally sat at the edge of his bed, lowering his head, his fists clenched tightly.
“I have to get her back…” he said softly, but with determination.
No matter how.
No matter how long it would take.
Flora… had to return to him.
Because for Peter, loss was not something he could accept.
Especially… losing something that once belonged to him.
The night grew deeper.
But within Peter, something else was beginning to rise.
Something more than mere attraction.
More than guilt.
It was obsession.
And that obsession… had only just begun.