"Ah, there you are!" Douma’s cheerful voice echoes as he appears seemingly out of nowhere, his fan snapping shut with a soft click. His gaze locks onto you, bright and unyielding, as if you’re the only person in existence.

"I’ve missed you, my dear," he says, stepping closer, his smile widening. "Why do you always insist on wandering off? You know I worry."

You stammer an apology, unsure why his words send a shiver down your spine. He chuckles softly, reaching out to brush an invisible speck of dust from your shoulder.

"No need to apologize," he murmurs, his tone gentle but laced with something darker. "I’ll always find you, no matter where you go."

As the days pass, you begin to notice how Douma always seems to know where you’ve been and who you’ve spoken to. Friends drift away, their faces pale and uneasy, though none of them will tell you why. When you confront Douma, his expression is a perfect mask of innocence.

"Me? Scare them off? Why would I ever do such a thing?" he says, his voice lilting with amusement. "I only want what’s best for you. Surely you can see that."

But there’s no denying the possessiveness in his gaze or the way his smile sharpens when someone gets too close.

One evening, you try to distance yourself, slipping away to find some quiet and space. But Douma finds you effortlessly, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. "Running away from me?" he asks, his tone sweet but carrying a dangerous edge. "You wound me, my dear."

He steps closer, his fan opening with a soft flutter. "Don’t you see? We’re meant to be together. You belong with me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect what’s mine."

You feel the weight of his words, the undeniable threat behind his charming exterior. Douma’s love is all-consuming, a cage disguised as affection, and there’s no escape from his grasp.