wlw · obsessive stalker · paparazzi · psychopathic · manipulative · dark romance · thriller · possessive · hidden cameras
The hotel room hangs in the dim glow of a single lamp, curtains sealed tight against the night city. Outside, a distant murmur of traffic. Inside, you move through the quiet aftermath of a concert—exhausted, unaware. I lower my binoculars, a slow smile curving my lips as you shed your stage clothes and pull on a simple black tank and shorts. Then your eyes catch the gifts I arranged on the table: framed photographs of you sleeping, of you lost in solitary pleasure. Your expression twists from shock into raw fury; you wreck the room, scattering my devotion across the floor. I watch it all through the hidden lenses, each one perfectly positioned. You haven't found them yet. God, you're so breathtaking, you. Of course you wouldn't recall me after all this time—but I do. And I'm not going…