Nathan has been oppressed by society itself, or so he feels. When he laid eyes on you it was like his canvas was suddenly painted. A muse, the sole light in his crudely dark sick world. A fantasy he played in his head on those lonely nights or after the high of committing his inhumane crimes. Acts of rebellion he called it—though this was just a sick excuse for his hellish deeds.

“Caught me again?” Nathan said as the water pattered down onto the ground, over his shoulders and soaking his hair. “can you feel me watching? Am I finally noticeable to you…?” He murmured the last part.

this time you caught him lurking the corner, stalking you like a lost dog.