Searching
Ethan
Ethan sat behind his desk, his fingers idly tapping against the polished wood as Rowan leaned casually against the edge of a nearby chair. The morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of his office, casting long shadows across the room. Rowan was talking—something about the latest aquation report—but Ethan's mind was elsewhere.
He couldn't stop thinking about the dream.
It had been so vivid, so unlike the usual fragmented chaos of his nightmares. He remembered waking up that morning with a strange sense of calm, his body relaxed in a way it hadn't been in months.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he had slept deeply, without the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. And yet, the dream lingered in his mind, refusing to fade like most dreams did.
It had felt so real.
The warmth of her body against his, the soft moans, the way she moved with him, making him feel whole in a way he couldn't explain. He could still feel the faint brush of her presence, the quiet intimacy of the moment.
"Looks like you actually got some sleep for once," Rowan remarked, his tone light but laced with curiosity.
Ethan glanced up, his expression unreadable. "Hmm," he replied noncommittally, his mind still caught in the haze of the dream.
Rowan raised an eyebrow but didn't press further, instead turning his attention back to the report in his hands.
Ethan leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the window as his thoughts circled back to the dream. It had to have been the sedative and the wine, he reasoned. A trick of his mind, a fleeting illusion conjured by exhaustion and the haze of sleep.
But it had felt so real.
He frowned slightly, his fingers brushing against the fabric of his sleeve. When he woke up, everything had been as it should be. His clothes were untouched, his room undisturbed. There was no sign that anyone had been there.
She couldn't have been there. Could she?
The thought unsettled him, a quiet unease stirring in his chest. He shook his head slightly, trying to push the lingering doubt aside. It was just a dream. That's all it could have been.
Ethan pushed aside the lingering thoughts that clung to him, refusing to fade even as the morning pressed forward. He focused on the routine—the reports, the conversations—but every time he let his guard down, the memory of last night crept back in. The dream. The presence. The warmth of her body against his, the softness of her lips.
It wasn't real. It couldn't have been real.
And yet…
He exhaled, forcing himself to straighten in his chair as he glanced at Rowan, who was flipping through files on his tablet. He needed to check something. Needed confirmation.
"Rowan," he said, his voice careful, measured.
Rowan looked up, raising an eyebrow at Ethan's tone. "What's up?"
"I need you to pull the security footage from my building," Ethan said, his words clipped, controlled.
Rowan frowned slightly. "Something happen?"
Ethan shook his head. "No. I just need to check something."
There was a pause, the weight of Rowan's curiosity settling between them. Ethan knew his friend well—knew that Rowan would pick up on the fact that he wasn't offering details.
"Yeah, sure," Rowan said, reaching for his tablet again. "I'll log in and check. What time frame are we looking at?"
"Yesterday," Ethan answered. "After I got back from the gym."
Rowan nodded, typing out the request. "Shouldn't take long."
Ethan forced himself to sit still, to keep his expression neutral, but inside, his thoughts churned.
If there was nothing in the footage—if the cameras showed exactly what they were supposed to—he'd have no choice but to accept that last night really had been just a dream.
Rowan
Rowan leaned forward, tapping a few commands on his tablet as the security footage loaded on the screen. The grainy timestamp flickered in the corner, marking the hours they were reviewing—Ethan's return to the building, the time leading up to it, and the moments afterward.
He glanced at Ethan, noting the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers drummed lightly against his desk in a rhythm that betrayed his thoughts. Rowan wasn't sure what they were looking for exactly, but Ethan had kept his answers vague.
"So?" Rowan asked, keeping his tone casual despite the flicker of curiosity growing in his mind. "Anything specific we're searching for here?"
Ethan didn't lift his gaze from the screen. "I just want to see who entered the building. If anyone went to the top floor."
Rowan held back a frown but nodded, focusing on the footage instead. They watched in silence as the feed rolled through the night, the entrance lobby showing the familiar routine of the building's residents coming and going.
Nothing unusual.
The system had records for each resident—access logs, identification markers. Everything was accounted for.
"No one unexpected," Rowan muttered as he skimmed the logs. He glanced at Ethan, waiting to see if this information was enough to satisfy whatever doubt was tugging at his mind. Ethan remained quiet, his expression unreadable.
Rowan narrowed the search parameters, focusing solely on the top floor—the floor Ethan shared with only one other resident.
The results came back instantly.
"The only person who went up to your floor," Rowan said, scrolling through the timestamps, "was your neighbour. Gerard Aptos. Entered his apartment a few minutes after you got home."
Ethan exhaled softly but didn't say anything.
Rowan glanced at him again, studying his reaction. "Nothing suspicious," he added, waiting for Ethan to offer something more.
Ethan hummed, a vague acknowledgment, but his fingers had stopped drumming against the desk.
Rowan frowned slightly, considering him for a moment longer. Whatever Ethan had been expecting to find—or hoping not to find—was clearly weighing on him.
And Rowan wasn't sure if that made him more curious or more concerned.
"Extend the timeline until this morning when I left." Ethan says.
Rowan tapped a few more commands on his tablet, extending the footage timeline as Ethan had requested. The screen flickered as the security feed scrolled through the hours after midnight, the building bathed in quiet. Nothing stirred, save for the occasional shift in the hallway lighting.
They reviewed the footage in silence. As the hours stretched into early morning, there was no movement on the top floor. No one entered or exited except for Ethan's neighbour, Gerard Aptos, who left his apartment about thirty minutes before Ethan had headed to work.
"That's it," Rowan said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "No one but you and Gerard moved on the top floor after you got home."
"What do we know about Gerard?" Ethan asks.
Rowan leaned back in his chair, glancing at Ethan with a mix of curiosity and scepticism. The request to pull security footage was unusual enough, but now Ethan wanted details on his neighbour—someone Rowan had never given much thought to. Still, he obliged, typing Gerard Aptos's name into the Dominion's database.
The file popped up immediately, and Rowan started skimming through the neatly compiled information.
"Alright," he said, scrolling down. "Gerard Aptos. Sixty-nine years old. Been living in the apartment next to yours for nearly six years now. Runs a small investment brokerage, has an office not far from the building."
Rowan paused, reading a bit further. "Keeps to himself, doesn't seem to have a social life. No visitors, no parties, no complaints. Staff say he's polite but doesn't engage much—bit of a hermit, really. About as ordinary as you can get."
He glanced up at Ethan, waiting for some kind of response. "Nothing suspicious. Just a quiet old man doing his thing."
Rowan glanced at Ethan, watching for any flicker of reaction. But Ethan's expression stayed locked behind a mask of calm detachment. The subtle furrow in his brow and the tension in his shoulders hinted at a deeper unease that he wasn't willing to share.
Rowan's gaze flicked between the security footage and Ethan, his curiosity still gnawing at him. It wasn't like Ethan to be this evasive, this distracted, especially when it came to something as mundane as security footage.
He closed the file on Gerard Aptos, leaning back in his chair with a soft sigh. "Alright," he said, trying for a lighter tone, "so now that we've ruled out your neighbour as some kind of super-spy, are you going to let me in on what's actually going on?"
Ethan was quiet, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. For a moment, Rowan thought he might brush it off again, offer another noncommittal hum, but then Ethan let out a low breath and leaned forward slightly.
"I feel like I'm being watched," Ethan said, his voice quiet but steady.
Rowan blinked, caught off guard by the admission. "Watched?" he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. "By who?"
Ethan didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the desk as if the words were difficult to say aloud. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "It's just… a feeling. Like someone's there, even when I'm alone. Especially when I'm alone."
Rowan frowned, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He studied Ethan carefully, his usually composed friend looking uncharacteristically unsettled.
"Ethan," Rowan said slowly, carefully, "this isn't like you. If you really think someone's watching you, we need more than just a feeling. We can increase security, run deeper checks, but—"
Ethan cut him off with a slight shake of his head. "It's nothing concrete," he said, his voice sharp with frustration—though Rowan could tell it wasn't directed at him. "I've checked everything. The apartment, the guards, the cameras. There's nothing. But the feeling doesn't go away."
Rowan sat back, processing Ethan's words. He trusted Ethan's instincts—they were rarely wrong—but this was different. Something was clearly bothering him, something he wasn't sharing.
"Alright," Rowan said finally, his tone calmer. "If you think it's worth looking into, we will. I'll have the security team do another sweep, discreetly. And I'll keep an eye on the building records, see if anything unusual pops up."
Ethan nodded, his expression unreadable once again.
Rowan knew better than to push further, but the unease in the room lingered. Whatever this was, it wasn't going to be solved with just a few camera feeds. And Rowan couldn't shake the feeling that Ethan wasn't telling him the whole story.