The day my mind-reading ability awakened, I heard the senior who had taken care of me for years thinking , [Shame I didn't plant cameras in her shower...]
He was good-looking, wealthy, and had a gentle personality.
I thought I had misheard, but the next day, I found a miniature camera in my bathroom...
The doorbell rang as I stood frozen. Mark, the innocent junior who had been chasing me for half a year, waited outside with bakery box in hand.
[Enough games. Roofie the bitch if she says no again.]
My mind buzzed, and I fought to keep my trembling hands steady, forcing a smile as I let him in.
He sat on the sofa and gave me a shy smile.
"Senior, I bought your favorite Pop-Tarts."
He handed me the dessert, with the shyness and innocence in his eyes were almost irresistible.
My mind-reading ability didn't always work.
It stopped working as soon as Mark entered.
It stopped working as soon as Mark entered.
A chill ran down my spine.
Pretending to be natural, I took the dessert and put it on the dining table.
"Thanks. Why are you free today?"
His baby-blue eyes crinkled with that practiced boyish charm. "For you, I'm always free..." The words slithered like syrup over dry ice.
As usual, he asked me, testing the waters, if I would be his girlfriend.
I instinctively declined, and a hint of disappointment flashed across his eyes.
Thinking about what I had heard when I opened the door, I suddenly felt uneasy.
"I knew it would be like this," he sighed and changed the subject, "I waited in line for a long time to buy these Pop-Tarts. Try them first."
I was afraid that if I rejected him again, he might really do something drastic,so I picked up a Pop-Tart and took a bite, saying it was sweet.
Mark stared at me intently and smiled ambiguously, "Really?"
The Pop-Tart turned to ash on my tongue,I'm screwed...
Brrrring—
My phone rang just as Mark shed his harmless disguise, those predator eyes locking onto me.I hastily dropped the second Pop-Tart to answer the call.
"The club has an event tomorrow. " Paul's velvet voice poured through the receiver. My knight in shining armor. "Can I pick you up to help set up?"
"Y-yeah. Thanks." My palm left a damp print on the phone case.
I didn't notice when Mark sat next to me.
His strong arms caged me in. "Why don't you give me a chance?" His lips brushed my ear, all wounded puppy act. "I really like you..."
"Paul's waiting downstairs—"
"Jackson?" His grip turned vice-like. I shoved at his chest, but his hand snaked around my throat, slamming me into the sofa.
"I can't take it anymore. You're always so close to him. Do you like him?"
You're both cut from the same cloth...
"No, he's just my senior. Let me go!"
As soon as I finished speaking, a violent and bloody kiss left me stunned.My nails raked his shoulders until oxygen deprivation made him pull back. " I've been chasing you for so long..." he panted against my swollen lips. "What should I do with you?"
Dad's funeral roses still haunted my nightmares when Paul appeared. The supportive older brother with therapist eyes and calculated smiles. He'd known exactly when to bring chamomile tea, which Shakespeare sonnets could pierce through grief. Now I see the chessboard beneath his kindness.
"Why are your lips… broken?"
Paul had a cool appearance but a gentle voice. His phoenix eyes always made people's hearts race when he looked at them.
He stared directly at my lips.
"Central heating," I lied. The bathroom mirror later showed the truth: a split lip blooming like crushed raspberries.
The junior bit me too hard, and my lips were still numb.
Paul gave me an unreadable look and then drove silently.
When we arrived at the club, I ran to the bathroom first and rinsed my mouth for a few minutes.
The setup was finally complete by evening.
"Let me take you home," Paul suddenly appeared and said.
I politely declined with an excuse.
He didn't say anything, just telling me to go to bed early.
I didn't go home, fearing that Mark might still be there.
It would be nice to have a camera now—wait?!
[Shame I didn't plant cameras in her shower...]
That meant Paul had installed cameras everywhere else, and I had only removed the one in the bathroom.
No wonder his call came at such a convenient time...
Brrrring—
Paul was calling.
For some reason, I felt uneasy.
I let his calls ring several times without answering,and found a hotel to stay for the night.
The next day at school, everything seemed peaceful.
But the more peaceful it was, the more uneasy I felt.
After class, I learned from a friend that Mark was in the hospital and asked if I wanted to visit.
I made an excuse and didn't go.
When I got home, the box of Pop-Tarts was still on the dining table.
I had felt a bit dizzy after eating just one yesterday. Fortunately, I didn't eat it all up.
3:47 AM
I dreamed of a python.Scales tightening around my ribs, forked tongue stealing breath. I woke with fingerprint bruises flowering on my inner thighs—and zero memory of putting them there.
Unable to fathom the reason, I went to class with puzzle lingering in my mind.
After class, Sandra bounded over to me, brimming with excitement.
"Considering how long you've known Senior Paul, I thought you two would end up together."
I was puzzled.
Seeing my reaction, she asked with curiosity, "You didn't know?"
"Know what?"
"Senior Paul is dating Anshu from the next department!"
Since I stopped answering his calls, we hadn't been in touch.
I didn't expect him to find time to start a relationship.
Honestly, I felt a mix of melancholy and emptiness.
For two years, he had always taken care of me, albeit with ulterior motives, but I couldn't just distance myself from him immediately.
I was well aware that my feelings for him were not romantic love.
I felt like an idiot who didn't know how to live without a guiding elder figure.
How did I become like this?
...Because of Paul?
My thoughts were interrupted by Paul's ringtone.
Hesitantly, I answered the call.
"Sarah Kim?" Paul's voice still did that stupid flutter to my pulse.
I responded with a complicated "Hmm."
"The club has a mixer in a few days. Are you coming?"
Frankly, I was reluctant to see him.
"No, I need to focus on my thesis."
There was a silence on the other end for a few seconds.
"Alright, then how about we grab a meal sometime? I'll introduce you to my girlfriend."
I had so many mixed emotions...
"I might not have time anytime soon."
"I'll wait."
Why did I have to meet her? Would I die if I didn't?
I sighed, feeling mentally exhausted.
Since staying at the hotel, I had been contemplating moving out.
After a few days, I finally found a new place.
This neighborhood was safer than the previous one.
I submitted my resignation from the club, which was a huge relief for me.
Paul had said that joining the club would help with networking and make life easier after graduation.
So, I stayed in the club for two years.
Truthfully, I didn't enjoy socializing at all.
At that time, to keep myself busy and stop thinking about my father, I followed Paul's advice and signed up.
Shortly after submitting my resignation, Paul called.
"Why?" His voice seemed colder than usual.
"It's written on the application form."
" The position of president..."
Paul went on and on about the drawbacks of quitting and the benefits of staying.
But I was firm in my decision.
He reluctantly conceded.
"Forget it. If you want to leave, then leave."
...
During class, Sandra whispered gossip to me again, sneaking a peek at the teacher.
I listened quietly until my expression stiffened suddenly.
[She always deliberately gets close to the senior and claims he likes her. Now that Senior Paul has a girlfriend, she must be furious, hahaha.]
[If it weren't for striking up a conversation with Senior Paul, I wouldn't have been friends with a delusional person like Sarah for this long...]
My curled-up fingers tightly clenched into a fist. I stared at the textbook on the desk and chuckled bitterly.
This sudden ability to read minds was truly distressing.
When did I ever say that Paul liked me?
Or deliberately get close to him?
One false accusation after another was pinned on me.
"Sarah... Sarah?"
I turned my head to look at Sandra. She frowned and said, "I'm talking to you. Can't you hear me?"
I silently observed her before looking away.
She nudged me grouchy, "What's wrong with you? Is it because of Senior Paul? Don't be upset. That junior who used to pursue you is also handsome..."
I interrupted her, resisting the urge to lose my temper, "Paul and I are just friends, and besides, I already have a boyfriend."
She looked astonished, "You have a boyfriend? How could that be? You've always been single."
I casually made up a story.
After she learned that I didn't like Paul at all, her expression grew even heavier.
At this moment, the ability to read minds disappeared. I couldn't understand why she had that expression.
Fortunately, I didn't dwell on it.
That night, I dreamed again.
This dream was strange; there were no images, only sounds.
The owner of the voice called my name repeatedly.
The hurried breathing seemed to send waves of hot air to my ears.
It felt as if something was pressing down on me, and I couldn't push it away.
