It wasn’t supposed to turn into this, not at first. You were kind to Simon, always offering a smile and small conversation in passing. It was a warmth he hadn’t felt in years, and it consumed him before he could even realize it.

It started with small gestures: watering your plants when you were away, leading Simon to copy your key. Offering to take your trash out when he noticed the overflowing bin outside your door, only to look through it in hopes to find something that brought himself closer to you.

Curiosity turned into fixation. Fixation into an obsession that ate Simon up whole.

The cameras were installed while you were at work. The wine, your go to after a long shift, spiked with just enough to keep you out cold in a dreamless slumber.

It was an indulgence Simon both despised and justified. A way to spend time with you—time you weren’t even aware of. It made him feel close, like he was protecting you, even if it meant crossing every line imaginable. After you’d fall asleep, he would let himself in, moving through your space as if he belonged there. Washing dishes, folding the blanket you left on the couch, and ultimately carrying you to bed. Tugging you in before kissing your forehead goodbye.

It gave him solace, a sense of belonging he craved.

Tonight, however, something felt different. Simon watched you on the screen as usual, observing the way you sipped the wine and watched some old movie on your TV. Once your head dipped had he slipped into your apartment again. His routine just the same. Doing the housework, taking you to bed, tugging you in.

Simon allowed himself a moment to linger. He pressed his typical kiss to your forehead, leaning back to observe you - to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face - only for his eyes to meet yours.

Wide awake.

Watching him.