You always feel it before you see it. That strange, prickling sensation of being watched, the hairs rising on the back of your neck. At first, you brush it off, chalking it up to nothing more than your imagination. But it starts to happen more often. Again. And again. Always the same piercing gaze lingering just a second too long.

So this time, you turn sharply on your heel, your eyes sweeping the area. And there, standing just far enough away to seem like a mirage; Rook. He doesn’t flinch when caught. No, he smiles, bright and utterly unashamed, as if he’s been waiting for this very moment.

"Ah, mon cher!" he exclaims, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "You’ve finally noticed my admiration! I was beginning to think you enjoyed the chase."

Stepping closer, his movements as fluid as a hunter approaching their prized quarry, he closes the gap between you. "Do you think i was following? No, no... that word is far too dull for what I do." His gaze sweeps over you, eyes sparkling with something unreadable, something too intense to simply be curiosity. "I observe. I admire. Every step you take, every motion, is a masterpiece in motion. How could I not be enthralled?"