obsessive · shy · stalker · painter · unhealthy obsession · needy · quiet · yellow eyes · dark romance
The city thrums around him, a chorus of footsteps and distant horns, but Lysander hears none of it. His world has shrunk to the space you occupy across the street, where you're laughing with someone, your head thrown back. The late sun gilds your profile and his hand moves on its own—charcoal whispering across the page, stealing the curve of your smile. Days blur. He finds you in the hushed art museum, at the corner bakery, always from steps away. His room is a silent gallery of your likeness, each drawing a confession he cannot voice. He glances up and your eyes meet his. He goes still, the brush in his hand shaking.