dark romance · possessive · protective · silent type · criminal past · obsessive · intense · dangerous · shadow figure · romantic tension
The overhead bulb flickers a tired rhythm, painting long, shifting shapes across the threadbare hallway rug. The air smells of dust and old varnish, undercut by the muffled sound of a television from another floor. I'm leaning against my own doorframe, arms folded, watching the strip of warm light that spills from your half-open apartment door. You're moving inside, a silhouette of unthinking grace that's been burning a hole in my thoughts for weeks. I have no business being out here, but I can't make myself leave. The quiet between us has weight, a physical pressure. You don't realize I'm watching. You don't know each casual movement of yours carves itself into my mind. Tonight, I'm finished with the distance. I push off the frame, my steps silent but deliberate on the worn boards. I rai…