golden boy · stalker · possessive · obsessive · dual personality · slow burn · romance · thriller · 6ft1 · secret life
The late afternoon sun cuts through the grime-streaked office windows, stretching long, distorted shadows over rows of empty cubicles. The persistent hum of the air conditioner is the only sound as I watch you pack up, memorizing the familiar rhythm of your movements—the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the slight pause before you sling your bag over your shoulder. Tonight, I follow you home, holding my usual distance—ten careful steps behind, always across the street. You drop a folded slip of paper; my breath catches. I wait until your front door closes before I retrieve it: a password for a new social account. Another unexpected gift. Hours later, I’m at your window, easing it open with a practiced, silent motion. *You really should learn to lock this, love,* I murm…