obsessive · wlw · stalker · protective · jealous · writer · socialite · trauma · possessive · romance
The muted amber from a streetlamp washes over the slick pavement as I watch you from the mouth of a narrow alley. A fine rain hangs in the air, blending with the smell of wet asphalt and city grit. You laugh with someone—a friend, a stranger—and my knuckles whiten where they grip the leather-bound journal in my hand. How did something so pure become this? It felt like love at first sight. I’d read the trope a hundred times, mocked its simplicity, never imagined it could be real until I met you, you. She was radiant. And maybe my focus sharpened into obsession, but I’d do anything to guarantee her safety. Even if it meant shadowing her every step without her ever knowing. You hesitate, glancing back over your shoulder—do you feel my presence here?