Amara sat frozen at the table, the air thick around her as the man's presence loomed like a shadow, his violet eyes never wavering from hers. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to get up, to run, but her mind felt paralyzed, captivated by something in those eyes—something too familiar, too unsettling to ignore.
He moved toward her slowly, like he had all the time in the world, but with each step, it felt as though the world around her narrowed until there was nothing left but him. She could hear the soft hum of the café, the faint chime of a bell as a customer left the door, but it all sounded distant, as if she were underwater.
When he reached her table, he didn't sit. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his face only inches from hers. His scent was intoxicating—a blend of earthy musk and something deeper, darker, like smoke from a long-forgotten fire.
"You're not dreaming this time," he said, his voice rich, soft, and commanding. "This is real."
Her throat tightened as she tried to swallow.
"Who are you?"
He smiled, a flash of something that was almost sad in the curve of his lips. "You know who I am, Amara. You just don't remember."
The words landed like a blow, and for a split second, it felt as though the ground shifted beneath her feet. Her heart skipped. The certainty in his voice made her pulse quicken, but there was no part of her that could remember him. She felt like a stranger to herself.
"You're wrong," she whispered, shaking her head. "I don't know you. I've never seen you before."
He studied her for a moment, then exhaled softly, as though disappointed. "It's not your fault you can't remember. But you will. Soon. It's why you're here."
Amara's chest tightened. "What do you mean, it's why I'm here?"
The man's gaze softened, almost tender. He stepped back slightly, his fingers brushing the edge of the chair as if considering whether to sit. But he remained standing, towering over her with an aura of quiet intensity.
"The storm. It wasn't just any storm," he said, his voice dropping lower, as though sharing a secret. "It was meant to awaken something inside of you."
"Awaken something?" Her voice barely reached the air. "What are you talking about?"
"Your memories," he said simply. "Your true self."
Amara's pulse raced. Awaken? Her mind churned with confusion and fear. What was he saying? Her true self? The words twisted in her chest, leaving a hollow ache. Could it be possible? Was it connected to those fragments of memories that had been haunting her dreams? The flashes of violet eyes, the strange sensation that she had been here before, somewhere, in another time, another place.
"You're not making sense," she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to stay calm.
He watched her for a long time before answering, his expression unreadable. "Maybe not yet. But you will. I'll help you remember. I'll show you everything."
"Why?" she asked, her voice a little sharper now, though it didn't have the conviction she wanted it to. "Why do I need to remember? Why is it so important?"
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze flickering briefly toward the door, as if he were considering something. "Because you're not who you think you are, Amara. Your past, your true past, is tangled up with mine. And until you remember, neither of us can move forward."
She blinked at him, her heart skipping again. "Tangled up with yours? What do you mean?"
"I mean," he said slowly, as if weighing each word, "that you and I have a connection. A bond that goes beyond anything you can understand right now. The memories you're blocking are the key to everything. To who you really are. To what you really mean."
Amara's breath caught, her mind unable to make sense of it all. A connection? A bond? She didn't know what to believe anymore. Part of her wanted to run. The other part… the part that felt inexplicably drawn to him, told her to listen.
But her mind screamed for answers—answers that this man didn't seem ready to give.
"You've been looking for me, Amara," he said suddenly, his eyes locking with hers, intense and piercing. "You've been dreaming about me for weeks. Haven't you?"
She flinched. How did he know that? It was exactly what had been happening to her. But how could he know? "You're in my dreams," she whispered, as if the words themselves could confirm the madness in her mind.
He nodded slowly, his eyes softening. "Yes. But that's just the beginning. What you feel now? The pull between us? It's real, Amara. We are connected, even if you don't understand how or why."
Amara shook her head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to cling to every thought she had. "Why didn't you just tell me earlier? Why the cryptic messages? Why the dreams?"
He stepped closer again, his expression softening into something almost tender. "I didn't want to overwhelm you. Not yet. You needed time to wake up. To remember on your own terms."
She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. "I don't know what to remember. I don't know who I am."
"You will," he assured her, a quiet promise hanging in his words. "You will remember. But it has to be on your time."
The silence between them felt thick now, as if the air itself was charged with an electric tension. Amara couldn't stop herself from looking at him, from feeling The weight of his presence in a way that made her feel both terrified and comforted at once.
He took a step back, his hands slipping into his pockets. "For now," he said, his voice a little softer, "you need to be careful. They'll be looking for you."
"Who?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitated for a moment, as though considering whether to answer. "People who know more about you than you think. And people who want to make sure you never remember the truth."
Amara stared at him, feeling both alarmed and oddly resigned. "What truth?" she breathed.
He smiled faintly. "You'll know soon enough."
With that, he turned and walked toward the door, leaving her breathless, consumed with more questions than ever.
"Wait," she called out, rising from the table. "What's your name?"
But the door had already closed behind him, and Amara was left standing alone, her mind racing, her heart thundering in her chest.