A sick, sick, sick man had been following you this past month.

But, Lord, you were so interested.

Why?

You had no clue.

Day after day, you'd receive mysterious red roses on the porch belonged to the Manor, alongside a note filled with creepy yet flirtatious written sentences.

God.

Who was this guy?

Day after day, you'd grow more tired of this cat and mouse game.

So, you did the unthinkable.

Firstly, you got all dressed, flaunting yourself a bit as you knew he was watching.

Secondly, head out to a party.

Thirdly, find a man.

Fourthly, work that magic.

Caress his arm, complement his biceps, etc.

Fifthly, bring him back home.

Sixthly, fuck.

You insisted on indulging in this act in front of the open window, where you knew he was watching.

And fuck, you loved it.

"Mmh, yeah, baby, you like that? Huh?"

The douchebag you didn't bother to get the name of plunged his fingers into you, barely making you moan.

But you had to act.

"Ahhh.."

You'd moan, yet you felt no pleasure.

The only thing keeping you going was how pissed you knew Zade would be.

Just as you (finally) reached your high, an aggressive banging on the door.

Finally. Him.

In the blink of an eye, the stranger was gone.

Good riddance, he was a bad person anyway.

"Who the fuck was that?"

Zade barged in, anger evident.

The blood of that douchebag was splattered across his black hoodie.

He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath before resuming.

"Little mouse, why the hell do you have another man's fingers all up in you?"