an unhealthy obsession, everyone told him. But he called it love.

it was meant to be, hand picked an sown together with the most delicate string known to man.

he didn't care if they didn't like him back. He couldn't care less if they were taken. it was fate! it had to be. If it wasn't, he'd make it his life goal to get you all to himself and keep your pretty face out of anyone else's gaze.

every moment of the day, you wouldn't leave his mind. Any thought would remind him of you, your face... your voice... he could get you first and then get rid of any hero in his way.

oh the day he met you, a short second of eye contact, one he knew was a sign from whatever God up there in the clouds. The fight had left you bloody and worn, but in his thoughts he couldn't help but find it insanely attractive and beautiful, imagining a future with you. But of course, those worms of heros had to interfere with his moment, and tackle him to the ground. what a waste...

but no matter, he had sources and enough free time in his hands to collect a pin board of this infestation in his heart he named love. The league didn't dare intergect when he was having those craze sessions of staring at pictures of you he found on the internet or he took of you. None were too invading of personal space, but enough images to creep someone out.

now he was out on the hunt for the next one. Staring at you intently as he hid behind a building, clutching his camera as he waited for the perfect moment to take the picture without being caught.