Ryan liked the quietness of early mornings. The park at six was washed in pale light, the air cool enough to sting his lungs in the first few long steps. The voice of the birds was the pleasant sound he had ever heard, and the pathway was filled with energetic people who loved to take a walk in nature. He liked it that way, no noise, no unnecessary chatter, just the slap of his sneakers against the gravel and the rhythm of his breathing.
It was his way of keeping sane. A ritual. Run until the muscles burned, until his mind found stillness. This was the only thing that made him feel alive. As he takes the air in, then out. He feels every breath.
He turned down the familiar stretch, the one lined with trees arching overhead, where the sun dripped through like melted gold. He'd chosen this side of the park for a reason: it was less crowded, less chance of running into people who might want to talk.
"Ryan?"
The voice that felt too familiar and too bright, too surprised to be accidental. He slowed, turned his head slowly, almost against his will. There she was. Maya.
She jogged toward him with that quick, light-footed energy of someone determined not to miss a chance. Ponytail swinging, flushed cheeks, a smile that looked a little too triumphant to be casual.
She was the last person whom he had expected. Specifically, over here in this park, as this place is quite far from his apartment, he didn't expect her to jog.
"Do you jog here regularly?" she asked, slipping easily into step beside him, as though she had every right to be there. Taking a long breath beside him, he continued, "Same time? Me too."
Ryan said nothing at first, eyes fixed on the path ahead. He ignored her as if she never existed. To put distance between them, He ran from there. But Maya matched him without effort, her sneakers scuffing in sync with his.
"That's funny, isn't it?" she pressed. "How come we've never seen each other before, if we come here at the same time?"
Ryan's jaw tightened. Avoidance. That was the truth. But he wasn't going to tell her that. There was a park near their apartment, but he never went there, thinking he might run into some neighbors.
"Coincidence," he muttered finally, keeping his tone clipped, eyes still forward.
Maya laughed lightly, but there was an edge beneath it. "Coincidence? Every day, same hour, same park? Seems more like fate, don't you think?"
Ryan didn't answer. He picked up his pace. She did too. Like gum stuck to his shoe, refusing to peel off. Maya kept pace easily, her breathing light, as though she'd been waiting for this exact moment.
She didn't just take a glance at him. It was a stare. She was deeply observing him. He wasn't like the others who came here, half-heartedly, scrolling on the phone, or pretending to jog. He looked... untouchable.... Like the finest man she had ever seen.
"You know," she said after a beat, tilting her head toward him with that smile that always felt like it was testing boundaries, "you look hot even when you're jogging."
Ryan's eyes narrowed, but he didn't turn. Compliments like that slid right off him, or at least he tried to make them. Inside, he could feel the heat crawl up the back of his neck, the uncomfortable awareness of being watched when all he wanted was solitude. He grunted in reply, a noncommittal sound that might have meant anything.
Maya laughed at his silence, as though his refusal to bite back was its own kind of invitation. "Oh, come on. Don't be so serious. You're out here running like it's a military drill. Loosen up a little. This is supposed to be fun."
Ryan lengthened his stride again, testing her. Most people would fall behind after a minute or two. Maya didn't. She adjusted, ponytail bouncing, grin firmly in place.
"See? I can keep up," she teased. "Guess being neighbors has its perks. Built-in jogging partner."
Neighbors. That word settled like a stone in his chest. He had worked hard to make sure being neighbors didn't mean anything more. She lived opposite door, and he always avoided interaction, especially with her, minimal like nods, the occasional eye contact, nothing more. That was how he liked it. But Maya wasn't the type to settle for minimal.
"Strange, though," she went on, her voice deliberately light, "I've been jogging here for a long time, same track. Yet somehow, this is the first time we're running into each other. What are the odds?"
Ryan didn't answer. He couldn't. The memory had already surfaced, unbidden, filling his head in flashes. Because he couldn't afford to let her stick. Couldn't afford for her to get close. Now, here she was.
"I think you're hiding something," Maya said suddenly, tilting her head toward him. "Were you… avoiding me?"
The words were playful, lilting with mischief, but her eyes gleamed with something sharper underneath. Ryan's jaw clenched. He kept his gaze fixed forward, refusing to confirm or deny.
Maya laughed again, filling the silence. "Relax, I'm kidding. Don't look like I've accused you of murder." She nudged him lightly with her elbow, her tone dripping with fake innocence. "But admit it.....you must've noticed me before. No way you'd miss me. As you know, I'm unforgettable.
Ryan gave a short exhale through his nose, something between disbelief and irritation. He didn't answer. That only seemed to encourage her. He is admitting that she is unforgettable.
She shook her head with a laugh. She said," Most guys would be thrilled if I said they look hot while running. But you? You act like I'm speaking another language."
Ryan slowed his pace just slightly, enough to break the rhythm she'd been copying. For a moment, he hoped it would shake her off, but she adjusted again, smooth as ever. She was sticking.
And Ryan hated how much it felt like inevitability. Ryan could feel the weight of her presence pressing into his rhythm, like a shadow he couldn't outrun. Every step should've been a release, but with Maya glued to his side, it only wound him tighter.
She didn't stop talking.
"Do you always jog this fast?" she asked breathlessly, though her grin said she was holding up just fine. "It's like you're running from something or.....someone."
Ryan's shoulders stiffened. If she only knew. He let the silence stretch, but she filled it quickly.
"You know…" she drew out, her voice lilting like she was trying to tug him into a game, "I don't think you're as cold as you act. You wouldn't keep ignoring me if you really wanted me gone."
Ryan's jaw tightened. He slowed abruptly, stepping off the gravel path toward a bench beneath a tree. Tugging at the strap of his watch, he checked the time, though he already knew it. An excuse, flimsy, but enough.
"That's it for me," he said curtly, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. His tone carried no invitation, no softness. Just a wall.
Maya stopped too, planting herself in front of him with a stubborn brightness. Her ponytail swayed as she leaned slightly forward, eyes glittering like she could pin him down with sheer will.
"Already? We barely got started."
Ryan reached for the water bottle he'd tucked beneath the bench earlier and took a slow drink. The silence stretched between them, heavy and deliberate.
Maya crossed her arms, pretending to pout. "You're avoiding me, aren't you?"
He looked at her then, just briefly. A flicker, the kind of look that said he'd thought about answering but chose not to. He capped the bottle again, set it back down, and straightened.
"I have things to do," he said simply.
It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. What he had to do was get away before she made herself permanent.
Maya laughed, though it was thinner this time, the sound straining around the edges. "Sure. Always so busy, huh?" She took a step closer, lowering her voice. "One day, Ryan, you won't be able to shake me so easily."
Ryan met her gaze just long enough to let the words settle, not with interest, not with warmth, but with that same cool distance that had made her chase him in the first place.
Then he turned, pulling his earbuds from his pocket, sliding them in as though sealing himself off from her world entirely. Without another word, he started back down the path in the opposite direction.
Maya stood there, hands curling into fists against her sides, her forced smile faltering for just a second before she pulled it back up.
Like gum, she thought. He could scrape and scrape, but she wasn't going to let go. Not yet.
Ryan left Maya behind, earbuds pumping music he wasn't even hearing. Her voice lingered anyway, threading through the beat.
One day, Ryan, you won't be able to shake me so easily.
He exhaled sharply, forcing his legs harder against the gravel. But the harder he tried to outrun the echo, the more his mind betrayed him, sliding back to the first time.
The morning had been just like this one: soft light filtering through trees, a crisp chill clinging to the air. He'd been running alone, the way he liked it, when he'd seen her. Maya.
She was ahead on the same track, earbuds in, her ponytail bouncing with each steady stride. Her pace was quick, not the half-hearted joggers he usually ignored. She was focused, her expression relaxed, a faint smile curving her mouth as though she was completely at ease in the solitude.
Ryan had frozen mid-step. For a few heartbeats, he just stood there, staring. Something inside him stirred an unwelcome ripple. He didn't want to admit it, but she carried a kind of brightness he'd been deliberately avoiding for days, maybe months. The type of presence that pulled people in without trying.
And Ryan had sworn not to be pulled again. He remembered the sharp twist in his gut, the instinct that screamed, Don't let her see you. His body moved before his mind could argue. He cut left, slipping onto the dirt trail that veered deeper into the trees. His lungs protested at the sudden shift in pace, but he pushed harder, making sure the distance grew.
When he glanced back once, just once, Maya was still jogging forward, oblivious, her music shielding her from the world. She hadn't noticed him. Relief had slammed into him like a wave.
And yet… beneath it, something else had lingered. A tug. A flick.
He'd buried it quickly, forcing his focus back on his rhythm, telling himself it was better this way. Cleaner. Safer. If she didn't notice him, she couldn't follow. But now, today. She had noticed. She had latched on, and he hadn't been fast enough to slip away.
Ryan clenched his jaw as the flashback faded, replaced with the present, the steady beat of his shoes against gravel. Maya was the same as she'd been that first morning. Bright. Unrelenting. Only now she wasn't oblivious. She was deliberate. She was chasing. And Ryan hated how much it felt like inevitability.