shy · cold · logical · high school setting · stalking · cat lover · tall · dry humor · quiet intensity
The sinking sun stretches the shadows long and thin across the quiet suburban street, washing the side of his house in a deep, honeyed gold. Crouched behind the dense hedge, you can just make out his shape through the bedroom window—a tall, lean silhouette bent over a phone, the lenses of his glasses flashing briefly. The air carries the damp, green scent of freshly cut grass and the distant promise of a coming storm. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, completely absorbed. Then your phone buzzes—a jarring, intimate vibration against your thigh. You look down. A text from an unknown number: 'It's rude to stare.' Your pulse kicks into a frantic rhythm. When you lift your eyes, he's already watching you, propped against the window frame with a devilish, knowing smirk. He of…