The Algorithm of Obsession

3.

A/N:
hi my dreamers, welcome to another chapter of chaos 
today will be eventful hehe *evil laugh*

welcome to the rot party yall~
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It was a new day at college, and her Hazard Analysis professor was being a bore—as always.

The man didn't teach so much as recite. He lounged in the chair on the raised platform, legs crossed, PPT glowing behind him like a badly staged TED talk. He read from the keywords—just keywords, never full sentences, never explanations. His indifference was almost admirable, in a tragic, soul-sucking kind of way.

"Novi," the professor called absently, eyes still glued to his laptop screen during roll call.

"Here," she muttered.

"Ugh, Nov," her friend who sat behind her yawned, nudging her with a pen cap. "Wake me if he actually explains something today."

She just gave a half-hearted nod, already zoning out.

The day dragged on in its usual sleep-deprived haze... until something cracked the monotony.

Mid-word, the professor's phone buzzed.
He stopped. Blinked. Picked it up.

Then, like someone had lit a fire under him, his voice shot up an octave. The lazy drawl vanished. He stood up too fast, nearly tripping over his own feet before hurrying out of the classroom, muttering into his phone.

Confused murmurs started buzzing.

Then the door creaked open again—
and the dean walked in.

Heads turned. The dean never visited this class. Hazard Analysis didn't exactly scream high priority.

But it wasn't the dean that held their attention.

It was the boy trailing behind her.

New admission, she announced. Mid-semester. Unusual, rare. A ripple of interest stirred across the room.

Except at her desk.

She didn't look up. Couldn't care less. She was functioning on three hours of sleep and a fading rush of last night's adrenaline. Socializing ranked somewhere near death on her list of current priorities.

She kept her eyes on the worksheet in front of her. Focused. Locked in. Blocking out the whispers—

Until a soft knock tapped against her desk.

She glanced sideways. First at the hand. Then her gaze trailed upward...
To the face.
The eyes.

Eyes so dark they bordered on black. Bottomless. Dangerous. The kind of dark that didn't just see you—it pulled you in. Like a black hole wrapped in denim and quiet confidence.

Her chest tightened.

He cleared his throat.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said smoothly. "Couldn't find any other place to sit."

The chill hit her first. A ripple, like ice dripping down her spine. Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck. Her head snapped toward him fully now as he set his bag down beside her.

The room felt smaller.

The walls closer.

And somewhere in her gut, a thread had just been pulled—
one she hadn't known existed.

She shook her head lightly, pushing away whatever strange emotion had just ghosted through her chest. Whatever that... was, it didn't matter. She wasn't about to spiral because of a good jawline and dark eyes.

She turned her face toward him, expression cool, and flicked her gaze to the seat on her right—empty and obvious.

Her brow lifted, sharp and questioning, a silent "Really?" as she tilted her head toward the vacant chair.

A soft snort came from behind her—her friend.

"There's a whole empty row, dude," she said, amused.

He smirked. The kind of smirk that made you feel like he already knew you, like this was an inside joke between two people who hadn't technically met yet.

"Oh, c'mon, love," he said, slipping into the seat beside her anyway. "You looked like you could use some company.
Health Hazard doesn't seem like your jam."

The words hit her strangely.

Something about the tone.

The phrasing.

A distant echo stirred, pulling at the back of her mind like a shadow caught in a dream.

"If I was there, sweetheart,"
"I'd sit by your side. Keeping you company."

It came out of nowhere—
A memory, not quite whole.
Not quite real.

She blinked. The classroom around her dimmed for a second, like someone had turned down the saturation.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She remembered the words. She remembered him—his voice, not in this setting, not in this time. Something from before. A conversation never spoken out loud.

A dream?

A glitch?

Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk. The goosebumps were back.

He was already opening his notebook beside her, scribbling something lazily, like this was the most normal moment in the world.

Then, as if feeling her stare, he glanced up and murmured casually—

"Let me guess... he read out five bullet points and called it pedagogy?"

She stiffened.

That was exactly what he did.

"Lucky guess," she muttered, trying to sound unimpressed.

He didn't flinch.

"Sure, Nov."

Her head snapped toward him again.

He knew her name.

But she hadn't told him.

Her mind was spiraling—
Because if this was their first meeting, then why did he already know what she hated?
And why did her heart ache like it was trying to remember something she never knew she'd forgotten?

He leaned back slightly in his seat, not smug, not invasive—just there. Present. A calm storm.

Then, without any ceremony, he added with a soft smile:

"Since I already know you, Nov," he said, voice like velvet over static, "figured it's only fair you know me too."

He met her gaze fully now, and her breath hitched.

"I'm Kian," he said simply. "And something tells me... we're going to be best friends, sweetheart."

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A/N:

no, I'm not a fraud, this is not a sham-
this story is very much about an AI

anyways guys, say hi to Kian

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a little snippet , cuz i love yall lol

🖤 "Eyes like gravity. Voice like a memory. And a smirk that shouldn't feel familiar—but it is eerie similar."