"Hello, Mr. Observant"

Chapter 1 - Wrong Number, Right Person

HI I MAKE NEW STORY AGAIN, I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT 😊

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Toey never expected his day to start with an accidental text.
He was sitting in the crowded café near the university, laptop open but only half-focused on his work. His phone buzzed, and when he glanced at the screen, the message didn't make any sense.

Unknown Number: "Be there in 10. Don't make me wait."

Toey blinked. Huh? He reread the message. Wrong number, obviously. But there was something sharp and impatient in the words-like whoever sent it wasn't the type you'd ignore. Against his better judgment, Toey typed back:

Toey: "Uhm, I think you got the wrong person?"

Seconds later, another buzz.

Unknown Number: "...Who is this?"

Toey almost laughed. You texted me first, and now you're asking who I am?
Still, curiosity tugged at him.

Toey: "I could ask you the same."

The reply was delayed, as if the other person debated whether to respond. Finally-

Unknown Number: "Q."

Just one letter. Mysterious. Short-tempered. Intriguing. Toey stared at the name for a moment, tapping his finger on the table. Then, with a grin, he typed:

Toey: "Q? Like the alphabet?"

Q: "Like my name. That's all you need to know."

Toey laughed out loud this time, drawing curious looks from other café customers. Wow. Who talks like this?

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The First Meeting

Over the next few days, Toey kept getting random messages from Q. They weren't chatty texts-more like blunt statements.

"Don't forget your umbrella."
"That café's latte is terrible. Don't order it."
"You stay up too late."

At first, Toey thought Q was being nosy. But somehow, the timing was always perfect. Like when he was about to order the latte-buzz, warning. When he stepped outside without checking the weather-buzz, reminder about the umbrella.

It was creepy... but also strangely sweet.

Finally, Toey sent:

Toey: "Okay, you either stalk me, or you're psychic. Which one?"

The reply came almost immediately.

Q: "Neither. Just observant."

Toey rolled his eyes, but the truth was-he was curious. Who was this guy?

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One Friday evening, while Toey was rushing to the library, someone grabbed his wrist firmly. Toey turned, startled, and froze.

The guy standing before him was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a black jacket that matched the sharpness in his eyes. His presence was intense enough to make Toey's heart skip.

"You're Toey?" the stranger asked. His voice was low, commanding.

Toey's mouth went dry. "...You must be Q."

Q's lips quirked, barely a smile, more like he was amused by Toey's boldness. "So you're the one replying to my messages."

"Who else would it be?" Toey tried to sound casual, though his pulse raced. "Unless you're texting ten strangers at once."

Q tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "Only you."

The weight of that simple answer made Toey's chest flutter unexpectedly. He coughed, trying to break the tension. "You're... scarier in person."

"Good."

Toey blinked. "That's not a compliment."

"It wasn't supposed to be."

Despite Q's cold exterior, there was something magnetic about him-something that pulled Toey closer instead of pushing him away. And Toey, with his natural cheerfulness, couldn't resist teasing.

"Well, scary guy, now that we've officially met, what do you want from me?"

Q's gaze softened almost imperceptibly. "Just don't disappear."

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The First Crack in the Armor

Over the next weeks, Q and Toey found themselves spending more time together. At first, Q insisted it wasn't "hanging out"-he called it "keeping an eye on Toey," which Toey teased him about endlessly.

"You're like a grumpy bodyguard," Toey joked one afternoon when Q followed him to class.

"Maybe you need one," Q replied flatly.

Toey laughed. "What, from the vending machine? Or from my professors?"

But later, when a group of upperclassmen tried to corner Toey for notes he refused to share, Q stepped in without hesitation. His mere presence-his glare-was enough to scatter them.

Afterward, Toey scolded him. "You can't just intimidate people like that!"

"They were bothering you."

"Still-"

"Toey." Q's voice dropped, softer than usual. "I don't like it when people mess with you."

That silenced him. Toey felt warmth bloom in his chest, and for once, he didn't know how to joke his way out of it.

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Quiet Moments

One evening, Toey dozed off in the library, head resting on his arms. When he woke up, a jacket was draped over his shoulders. He looked up groggily to see Q sitting across from him, chin propped on one hand, staring.

"You should go home if you're tired," Q said.

"You should wake me up if you're going to play bodyguard," Toey muttered, hiding his smile.

Q leaned forward, voice low. "You looked peaceful. I didn't want to wake you."

Toey's heart stuttered. For a moment, the entire library seemed too quiet, too still, like the air itself was holding its breath. He quickly turned away, cheeks burning.

"...You're not as scary as you pretend to be," he whispered.

Q didn't answer. But when Toey dared to glance at him again, he swore he saw the faintest curve of a smile on Q's lips.

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That night, lying in bed, Toey stared at his phone.

Toey: "Hey... thanks for today."

The reply came a minute later.

Q: "Don't thank me."

Toey: "Why not?"

Q: "Because I'll always be there. It's nothing special."

Toey bit his lip, heart racing, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

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And that was the beginning.
What started as a wrong-number text had led Toey into Q's orbit-dangerous, magnetic, and impossible to escape.

And maybe... just maybe... Toey didn't want to escape at all.

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