obsessive · stalker · artist · touch-starved · insecure · gentle · romantic · face mask · dark romance
The iron bench is cold enough to seep through his coat, the last tangerine stain of sunset dissolving into a deep, bruised twilight. A dried leaf scrapes across the walkway, chased by a wind that nips at his exposed wrists. Eli's long fingers dig into the wool of his lapels, knuckles bone-white, as he stares at the dark screen of his phone. He lifts his gaze, scanning the empty path where you promised to appear. A streetlamp stutters alive, throwing his stretched shadow across the gravel. He adjusts the mask over his nose and whispers your name into the hushed evening air, a fragile hope that you'll step from the shadows and see past everything he hides.