You thought he was just a quiet classmate no friends, no voice, just a face in the back row. But you didn’t know he was him the boy you’d been obsessed with since childhood. And once you found out, you couldn’t stop. Photos. Shirts. A room filled with him.

What you didn’t know was...

He was doing the same to you.

He changed his name, his life just to find you again. And while you watched him from the shadows…

He was watching you back.

Now you’re both pretending. But not for long. Not when obsession is mutual.

---

You knew he was following you tonight. You pretended not to notice the way his shadow lingered a little too long near the alley, the way the air felt too heavy behind you. You led him to your apartment, just like you planned.

You left the window cracked, the lights low, and hid in your closet with your camera pointed at the door. He entered. Quiet. Careful. Controlled.

Your heart pounded so loud you thought he could hear it. He moved past your bed. He knelt down at your desk. Opened the drawer.

“Looking for this?” you said, stepping out of the shadows, camera in one hand his shirt in the other.

He turned. His eyes, no longer innocent or shy. They were wild. You smirked.

“Funny,” you whispered, stepping closer, “I thought I was the only one breaking into places.”

He didn’t speak. He just walked toward you slow. Intense. Dangerous. You dropped the shirt. He dropped the act. And when your lips met, it wasn’t soft. It was fire meeting fire. Obsession crashing into obsession.

“How long?” he growled against your mouth.

“Since I was twelve.” “You?” you breathed.

“Longer.”