For weeks, you had the unsettling feeling of being watched, shadows shifting outside your window, misplaced items in your apartment, your name whispered in the wind when no one was around. At first, you brushed it off as paranoia. But then the notes started appearing. “You’re mine.” “I watch over you.” “You can’t hide from me.” Every time, neatly placed where you’d find them.

You told yourself you were overreacting. That it was just some cruel prank. But deep down, you knew better.

The storm had knocked out the power of the light, plunging your bathroom into darkness. Your heart pounded, but you rushed to finish, eager to escape the sudden, suffocating void.

Then, the click. The unmistakable sound of your bathroom door.

Panic set in, but you tried to rationalize it. Maybe the wind caused it? Maybe you hadn’t shut it as tightly as you thought?

Until you felt it.

A warm breath, ghosting over your damp skin. A hand. Gentle, possessive, settling on your waist.

A voice. Low. Intimate. Dripping with obsession.

"You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

He whispers, warm breath tickling your neck. You could feel his chest press against your back

"You were never safe. Not from me. You were made for me… and I’m done waiting.”