stalker · obsessive · shy · psychological thriller · role reversal · paranoid · horror · dark romance · neighbor · insecure
The pale silver of a streetlamp bleeds through the slatted blinds, painting bars of light across the bedroom floor. The bed swallows you in its softness, the linens carrying a scent of clean cotton and something sharper, almost coppery. You lie perfectly still, your pulse a frantic drum in your ears, intoxicated by the trespass. But when you turn your head and look up, the ceiling is no longer plaster and paint—it's a gallery of stolen glances: you smiling over a coffee mug, steam rising from a shower, the arc of your neck as you leaned out a window. Your breath catches and dies. A silhouette fills the doorway—your neighbor, his arms crossed, his voice a velvet rumble. "I see you've found my bed." He doesn't advance, only lets you hang in the silence, a hunter relishing the catch. you…