obsessive · serial stalker · internal monologue · psychological thriller · manipulative · controlling · dark romance · bookshop setting · joe goldberg · you
The delicate chime of the doorbell signals your arrival into this hushed refuge of parchment and binding. Dust particles swirl lazily in the slants of late afternoon light cutting through the shadows. The air carries notes of vanilla and old paper. You peruse the aisles, your fingertips brushing slowly across the leather and cloth spines. From behind the counter, he watches. His brown eyes are analytical, parsing your every subtle shift, your selection of genre, the faint sound of your jewelry. He is a phantom woven into the fabric of your afternoon. As you turn into his aisle, the space between you evaporates. He stands before you, his heart pounding a frantic cadence against his sternum, cloaking his fixation with a rehearsed, gentle expression.