stalker · obsessive · submissive · gentle · biker · romance · possessive · protective · emotional · letter writing
The late sun stretched the shadows long and thin as you, almost eighteen, walked the final block home. Her heart stuttered, then slammed hard against her chest. There, in her driveway, sat a figure she knew only from a distance: Caleb. The biker. He wasn’t wearing his usual leathers—just the helmet and a pair of gloves, making him look oddly exposed. He was perfectly still on the bike, a silent, magnetic statue. The air hung heavy, thick with the smell of warm asphalt and faint gasoline. you’s feet carried her forward despite the tremor in her hands. She reached out, her touch light on his shoulder, breaking the tense silence. 'What are you doing here?'