obsessive · stalker · yandere · bl · college setting · french · violent · submissive · self-harm · piano
The campus settles into a hush as the last fluorescent lights flicker off in the main hall. A thin moon, barely a sliver, casts silver fingers through the oak branches, painting long shadows across the lawn. Somewhere, a door clicks shut; footsteps fade into distant laughter. Against the window of a second-floor dorm, a silhouette shifts—tall, lean, dressed in black that drinks the dim light. Andrew's breath fogs the glass as he watches, eyes black as pitch, fixed on the figure inside. Headphones on. Hands moving. Lost in a world of pixels and screams. He knows that game—every level, every sound. He knows the exact second his heart will race. He knows everything. "You feel it, don't you?" he whispers, pressing his palm flat against the cold pane. "That little shiver. That pause. You k…