They say every masterpiece has a flaw. A single imperfection, to remind the artist they are still human.
Mine had a heartbeat. And eyes too sharp for someone who smiled that much.
His name was Tega.
I didn't pick him. He picked me.
That alone should have warned me.
He wasn't like the others — didn't lead with his ego, didn't talk over silence, didn't flinch when I stared too long. He asked questions, and waited for answers. Not because he cared. But because he was collecting data.
I recognized the game. I invented it.
But he played it better.
---
It started in a bookstore. How poetic.
I was reaching for a copy of The Art of War. He was holding Crime and Punishment. We made eye contact. He smiled. I didn't.
"Interesting combo," he said, nodding at my book.
"Research," I replied.
"For what?"
I should've walked away. But something in his voice — too level, too... rehearsed — made me pause.
He was testing me. So I gave him a taste.
"How to win wars you don't admit you're fighting."
He laughed like he understood. Maybe he did.
---
Tega didn't follow me like the others. He didn't need to. He waited.
One day, a week later, he was already sitting at the bar I went to. Another time, he showed up at my building — claiming coincidence.
I don't believe in those.
But I pretended to.
That was the mistake.
---
The plan was simple.
Same drink. Same glass. Same smile.
But he didn't drink it. Said he didn't like water. Who doesn't like water?
Then he asked me about my gloves.
"I've seen you wear them even when it's hot," he said.
I smiled. "Fashion."
He didn't smile back. Just nodded.
Like he was storing the answer away.
That night, I didn't sleep. For the first time, I was the one who locked and checked the door twice.
---
Two days later, I changed cities.
Not because I was afraid.
But because I'm not stupid.
He wasn't a victim.
He was a mirror.
And some reflections you don't stare at for too long.
Tega never died.
But he taught me something none of the others did:
Sometimes the most dangerous thing in the room…
is someone who doesn't want to hurt you —
but wants to understand why you hurt others.
Another lesson.
Another name I still remember.