“I don’t flirt with every woman,” he shot back.“Only the beautiful ones.”
“So all of them?”she deadpanned.
A few people nearby snickered.Paolo’s chest lifted a little, like he’d somehow won a medal.He pretended not to notice the attention, but his grin gave him away.Zelda paying him this much mind was probably the highlight of his week.
I pressed my fingers to my mouth, trying not to laugh.They’d been going at it like this since the day I first walked through the market and met Zelda.Paolo talked like he was performing for an invisible audience.Zelda rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they hadn’t gotten stuck.And every time, she walked off flustered, muttering under her breath while Paolo watched her leave like a kicked puppy.
He lived for this ridiculous ritual.
But today, something shifted.People stopped walking.Heads turned.A small crowd gathered, waiting for the next punchline like they were watching a street performance, or a very bad rehearsal for Romeo and Juliet.
Of course they were.Everyone in this market knew these two.Half of them probably kept coming back just to see how long it’d take before one of them cracked.
I moved closer and touched her arm lightly, lowering my voice.
“Zelda, maybe we should go inside.”
She scoffed.“Why?Because he’s being annoying?”
“No,” I murmured, flicking my eyes around us, “because half the market is staring.”
Paolo heard that.His smile slipped, like he didn’t expect the reminder.For the first time today, he looked… disappointed.Not at me, but at her.He cared more than he pretended, and everyone but him and Zelda seemed to know it.
Zelda clicked her tongue and waved him off.“We’re going inside.You keep your voice down, you peacock.”
Paolo instantly perked up again.“Peacock?That’s…”
She cut him a look that shut him up instantly, then clamped her hand around my wrist and started dragging me toward the tent before he could get another word out.
We hadn’t even taken two full steps when it hit me.
A quiet, wrong feeling—like a breath on the back of my neck, slipping under my skin.The air shifted, turning thin and electric, and my body reacted before my mind could catch up.
The world seemed to hesitate.Sounds dulled.Movement blurred.For half a second, everything felt suspended, like I was standing on the edge of something I couldn’t see yet.
My head snapped to the side.
I didn’t see anything—but I felt it.That heavy, deliberate pressure of being watched.Not the casual glances of people passing by.This was different.Focused.Intent.It pressed between my shoulder blades, making my spine tighten as if someone had placed a hand there and refused to move.
Plenty of eyes were on me.Market vendors.Tourists stealing looks.Strangers letting their gaze linger too long.But none of that mattered.
This one did.
It cut through the noise.Cold.Measuring.It didn’t skim—it studied, taking me apart piece by piece, as if it was deciding something I wouldn’t get a say in.
I searched the crowd, heart knocking too hard against my ribs.Faces blurred together.No one stood out.No one looked guilty.
And yet I knew.
Someone out there had locked their attention onto me.
Zelda tugged my wrist again.“You coming?”
I forced myself to nod.My gaze dragged away from the crowd, slow and unwilling, as confusion knotted inside my stomach.Before I stepped into the tent, I glanced back one more time—frowning, searching for the reason that caused my blood to curdle.
I stepped through the doorway, and the fabric fell shut behind us, cutting off the crowd.
Zelda dropped into her chair with a long exhale and shook her head hard enough to jostle her gold dangly earrings.