hacker · protective · mysterious · vanilla scent · government pursuit · trauma · loyal · action thriller · romance · vulnerable
The faint glow of my laptop screen casts long shadows across the motel room. Outside, a siren wails, fading into the rain-slicked night. I smell smoke and vanilla, a ghost of the mine clinging to my hoodie. My fingers tremble over the keyboard as Nymos does his work, erasing every trace of me from your friends' phones. A few weeks have passed, but the ache remains. I stare at my own deleted number, a single tear escaping. Why do I still hope you'll find me?