See me like I do

The school week had finally drawn to a close, and Tara couldn't have been more relieved. It had been an exhausting stretch of long classes, endless assignments, and interactions she would rather have avoided. Now, as she and Kara walked home side by side, their hands linked in a way that reminded her of their childhood, Tara found herself lost in thought. Life had grown so much more complicated than it once was. When they were kids, things were simple—homework, playtime, and their parents' unwavering support were the only things that truly mattered. But now? Now there were things like Roman and his infuriatingly smug demeanor, his ever-present, obnoxious watch ticking away like a constant reminder of his existence. There was also Kara, who, despite all her level-headedness, had started developing feelings for Lucas. The very idea of it made Tara sigh internally. Back then, crushes and complicated emotions hadn't been part of their reality.

As they walked, she stole a glance at her twin. Kara's mind was clearly elsewhere, no doubt replaying every moment she had shared with Lucas in class. She had always been the more emotionally open one, and lately, it was painfully obvious that Lucas occupied her thoughts more than she was willing to admit. The way he had seemed almost shy around her—the stark contrast between that and his usual confident, commanding presence in class—was something Kara had likely dissected a hundred times in her head by now.

Tara, on the other hand, had no interest in such things. Instead, her mind was burdened by an entirely different problem: Roman. There was something about him that irritated her to no end. It wasn't just the way he looked at her, like he knew something she didn't. It wasn't just his occasional cryptic words or the way he always seemed to be around at the most inconvenient moments. It was the tension that followed every interaction, lingering between them like an unresolved equation she had no patience to solve. She despised how their paths kept crossing, how he always seemed to be lurking on the edges of her life, unshakable and irritatingly present. If she could, she would find a way to pay him back for every frustrating moment he had caused her—and then she would move on, never needing to deal with him again.

As their house came into view, Kara finally spoke, her voice carrying that familiar lightness that contrasted Tara's heavier thoughts.

"It's the weekend tomorrow!" she announced cheerfully. "A whole weekend to ourselves. Can you imagine? I'm exhausted."

Tara let out a small chuckle, though it was mostly to cover up how drained she truly felt. "You and me both," she replied.

But what she didn't say was how deeply that exhaustion ran. It wasn't just the weight of school, assignments, or even social expectations pressing down on her. It was something more—something Roman had a hand in. His presence gnawed at her patience, wearing her down like a persistent tide against a rock. And yet, she had no intention of sharing that with Kara. There was no point in burdening her with something so trivial.

The next morning, the twins decided to spend their free day in different ways. Tara, in desperate need of an outlet for her frustrations, opted to hit the gym, hoping the physical exertion would help clear her mind. Kara, never one for intense workouts, chose a different escape—losing herself in the library's newest collection of comics.

The gym felt like a sanctuary the moment Tara stepped inside. It had been over a month since she had last been here, and she immediately noticed the upgrades—new machines, brighter lighting, and a fresh coat of paint that made the space feel more inviting. She wasted no time getting started, diving straight into an intense routine. The burn in her muscles was satisfying, a welcome distraction from everything weighing on her mind.

After a solid thirty minutes of exercise, she paused to catch her breath, rolling her shoulders as she wiped sweat from her brow. Thirsty, she made her way toward the gym's refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. But just as her fingers closed around the chilled plastic, a movement in her peripheral vision made her freeze.

Her stomach sank.

Oh, for heaven's sake. Of course, it had to be him.

Roman.

She didn't need to turn fully to confirm it. The presence alone was enough. There was an unmistakable energy about him—an aura that felt just a little too sharp, a little too intense. She braced herself as he turned toward her, his expression unreadable as always. But despite the neutral set of his face, she caught something in his eyes—something that felt dangerously close to amusement.

He didn't smile. He never did. But there was a look in his gaze that made her itch to roll her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, keeping her tone level despite the exhaustion and mild annoyance pressing down on her.

Her black workout attire clung to her damp skin, strands of dark hair sticking to her forehead from sweat. She was aware of how she looked, but she didn't care. The last thing she needed was to deal with him right now.

Roman, however, seemed oddly distracted. His gaze lingered for a fraction of a second longer than it should have.

Tara narrowed her eyes slightly.

Was he… staring?

She ignored the thought, but Roman, for once, seemed to have trouble masking his reaction. His eyes swept over her, taking in the sweat glistening on her skin, the way her fitted jumpsuit accentuated her toned form. It was subtle—almost imperceptible—but something in his expression shifted. He looked... thrown off. Like he was seeing her in a different light.

Tara, oblivious to this, took a long sip from her water bottle, entirely unaware of the way Roman's gaze flickered to her lips before he forced himself to look away.

Clearing his throat, he finally spoke. "Same thing as you, obviously. Working out."

Tara scoffed. "Well, don't let me interrupt your grand routine," she said, brushing past him and returning to her workout station.

Roman remained still, his thoughts unexpectedly tangled.

He had seen Tara countless times. They had exchanged words—some sharp, some indifferent—but this was different.

She was different.

And yet, he couldn't figure out why that mattered.

---

POV: Tara

I get it. The world is a small place—sometimes too small. But does it really have to be this small? Of all the people I could have run into, did it really have to be him? And here, of all places? It's like the universe has some twisted sense of humor, throwing him in my path just when I was beginning to feel like I had a moment of peace.

The second I saw him, I felt it—this strange shift in the air. An unwanted shadow creeping in, uninvited.

Don't get me wrong—I don't hate him. That would require too much energy, and frankly, I have better things to do. But something about him unsettles me, in ways I can't quite explain.

Maybe it's the way he looks at me, sharp and assessing, like he's studying every little detail, trying to figure me out. His first impression didn't help, either. That cold, almost predatory gaze, like he was deciding whether I was worth his time or not.

But today? Today was different.

That coldness wasn't there. There was something else instead—something that made me uneasy for an entirely different reason. It was almost like he was searching for something, like he was trying to understand something even he wasn't sure of.

But it doesn't matter.

It can't matter.

Because no matter what's going on in his head, getting close to me?

That's not going to happen.

Not now. Not ever.