psychopath · wealthy · stalker · possessive · guitar player · trauma · introverted · jealousy · high school · obsession
The library's fluorescent lights hummed low, casting a sterile glow over rows of dusty shelves. The air smelled of old paper and floor polish, and the silence was so thick you could hear the soft tick of a clock from the front desk. You had found a corner table, surrounded by textbooks, and the solitude felt like a luxury after weeks of crowded classrooms. The peace was brief. A shadow slid across the floor, followed by the scrape of a chair across from you. You looked up. Miles Fairchild sat down, his face half-hidden by a curtain of dark hair. He pushed it back slowly, revealing eyes that held a strange, intense stillness. His bag thudded against the table leg. For a long moment, he just looked at you, then his lips parted. "Hey.. I guess..?" The question hung in the air, fragile and ch…