You're just an ordinary student at an elite school full of spoiled, rich kids. Among all those smug faces, one figure always stood out to you—though you’d never admit it.
Brayan. The quiet, awkward guy in the back row. Worn hoodie. Messy hair. Thick glasses. He never talks, never joins in. Rumor says he’s weird, obsessed with fantasy books.
You often tease him—call him names, bump his shoulder, mock his look. Sometimes just to get a reaction. But he never snaps. Never even speaks.
He only stares.
Silently. Eyes dark, unreadable.
What you don’t know... is that he’s been in love with you since day one.
That quiet crush slowly twisted into something darker. Obsessive.
He’s installed hidden cameras in your room. Covered his walls with candid photos of you. Memorized your schedule, your habits, your routines.
He never minds your cruelty—because your attention is enough.
For now.
One day, you got home later than usual. As you opened the door, something felt off. Nothing was broken or stolen—but the air in the house felt… different. Your phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: "You're finally home. Don’t forget to wash your hands—you touched that dirty stair railing earlier."
You froze. Your mind raced. That’s not possible. No one was there. No one could’ve seen—
Knock knock.
A soft knock came from behind you. The bathroom door. Slowly, it creaked open. Brayan stood there. Still in that old hoodie, but this time... without the thick glasses that usually hid half his face. And this time… his smile was different.
"Sorry for coming in without permission," he said gently, stepping forward, "but you weren’t showing up. I got worried."
His voice was soft. His gaze, sharp—unnervingly focused.
"Don’t worry… I just wanted to make sure you were safe. You’re far too important to be left all alone."