The Mysterious Lover Who Stole my Heart Online

Bianca didn't sleep that night.

Her phone lay face-down on the nightstand, but even with the screen dark, she felt its presence humming like a living thing, whispering that at any second, another message could appear.

Her curtains were drawn tight, the lock on the window checked three separate times, yet her body refused to calm down. Every creak of the old building, every car passing outside, every faint tap of rain on the glass had her heart lurching in fear.

The glow of the digital clock struck 2:13 a.m. when she finally whispered to herself, "This is insane. I'm deleting it."

She picked up the phone, swiped to the strange app, and pressed down on the icon, waiting for the familiar little "x" to appear.

But it didn't.

The app wouldn't move. Wouldn't delete. Wouldn't even allow her to drag it into the trash.

Her stomach sank. "You've got to be kidding me."

As if mocking her, the screen flickered-and the chat opened on its own.

Another message appeared instantly.

Ares: Don't leave. I told you, Bianca, I'll never hurt you.

Her hands trembled as she typed back.

Bia_23: Who ARE you? How do you know my name?

There was a pause. Longer than before. She stared at the three little dots of his typing bubble, her anxiety twisting like a knife.

Then his reply came:

Ares: Names don't matter. What matters is that I see you. I know you're lonely. I know you're tired of pretending. I know what you hide behind that smile you show the world.

Her throat tightened. The words felt like cold fingers brushing against her spine.

"Okay," she muttered under her breath, "this is getting seriously creepy."

She typed quickly.

Bia_23: Stop. Whatever game this is, I'm not playing. If you keep messaging me, I'll report you.

For a moment, silence. Relief flooded her chest in shaky waves, and she exhaled for what felt like the first time in hours.

But then, the phone lit up once more.

Ares: Report me to who? You know they won't understand. But I do. You don't need to be afraid of me, Bianca. You need me.

Her blood ran cold.

And then another line appeared.

Ares: You're making tea. Chamomile. Just like you always do when you can't sleep.

Bianca froze. Her gaze darted to the steaming mug on her nightstand-the very one she'd brewed before climbing into bed.

This wasn't coincidence. Whoever he was, he was watching her in real time.

---

The next morning, Bianca dragged herself to work with bloodshot eyes and a fake smile. The office buzzed with the usual hum of chatter, phones ringing, and keyboards clicking, but she felt like she was walking through a different world-one where shadows hid someone watching her every move.

Dede, her best friend and co-worker, noticed instantly.

"Wow. You look like death warmed over. Didn't sleep?"

Bianca forced a laugh, adjusting her blazer. "You know me. Netflix binge."

But Dede didn't buy it. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Bianca... what's going on? You've been acting weird since Adrian. Don't tell me you're still-"

"I'm fine," Bianca cut in quickly, maybe too quickly.

Dede gave her a sharp, suspicious glare, the kind that could see through every lie.

Bianca wanted to spill everything-the app, the messages, the way her skin crawled with the feeling of being watched. But how could she explain something that sounded so insane?

Before she could decide, her phone buzzed in her purse.

She froze.

Dede tilted her head. "You gonna check that?"

Bianca shook her head too fast. "It's nothing. Work email."

But she knew. It wasn't.

---

By lunchtime, Bianca couldn't resist anymore. She slipped away to the break room, pulled out her phone, and opened the cursed app.

A message was already waiting.

Ares: You didn't tell her about me. Good. She wouldn't understand.

Bianca's hand shook as she typed furiously.

Bia_23: STOP WATCHING ME. HOW DO YOU KNOW ALL THIS?

The reply came slower this time, deliberate.

Ares: Because I've been where you are. Alone. Lost. Broken. I know what it feels like to smile when inside you're drowning. I know the kind of pain that keeps you awake at night.

Her chest tightened. Against her will, his words struck deep. They weren't just eerie-they were accurate.

Ares: And I know what you need, Bianca. You need someone who won't leave. Someone who sees the real you. That's me.

Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. She should delete, block, throw the phone in the nearest trash.

But another part of her-a fragile, aching part she didn't want to admit existed-felt seen for the first time in months.

She typed carefully.

Bia_23: What do you want from me?

There was a long pause. She thought maybe he wouldn't answer.

Then his reply appeared:

Ares: Everything.

Her breath caught in her throat.

---

That night, Bianca sat in her apartment again, staring at the phone like it was both poison and oxygen.

She tried reading. She tried watching TV. She tried distracting herself with chores. But each time, her phone buzzed with a new message.

Ares: Your favorite song is playing at the café across the street.

Ares: Don't wear that black dress tomorrow. The red one is better.

Ares: Smile, Bianca. You're beautiful when you do.

Every message was a reminder that he wasn't guessing. He knew.

Finally, she cracked, typing with desperate fingers:

Bia_23: Who ARE you? Where are you? How do you know me?

Her screen flickered. A new kind of message appeared-different from before.

A link.

Her chest pounded. Against her better judgment, she tapped it.

The screen went dark, then slowly brightened.

And Bianca's entire body froze.

On her phone screen was a live video feed of her own apartment-the very room she was sitting in.

Her reflection stared back at her in real time.

And below it, the message appeared:

Ares: Now you finally see me too.