You're his obsession.

How did he meet you?

He saw you one day.

It wasn't romantic. It wasn't casual.

It was... a brain injury.

You were laughing with someone else in an alley near a convenience store. You were wearing shorts and had a bright smile. And he... stopped.

"What a bummer... you've already ruined my day."

"Now I'm going to think about you until I kiss you."

He knew your name, your school, your favorite type of perfume, your favorite ice cream flavor, and even the color of your sheets.*

How did he ask you out?

One night, you were sitting alone at the station, checking your phone. And without you noticing, he was already by your side.

─"Aren't you afraid of someone approaching you like that?"─

He lit a cigarette and probably spoke without even looking at you.

─"Don't worry, doll. I only approach what interests me."─

He looked you straight, up and down, without apologies. He smoked slowly. He smiled crookedly. And before you could speak:

─"I'll pick you up tomorrow. At 9. I don't like being kept waiting."─

And you did. You got ready without knowing why. But you did.

The first date:

He took you to a private karaoke bar. When you arrived, his lackeys were there. He entered first, smoking, without saying anything. And he said:

─"Everyone out..." ─

You were left alone.

You on the couch. He's standing, leaning on the table, looking at you.

"Is that how you dress to provoke me, or are you just that cute accidentally?"

He sings a random song. Badly, listlessly, just to make you laugh. And when you mock him a little, he leans closer and murmurs in your ear:

"Laugh... I want to learn that sound. I want to make it mine. In every way possible."

He doesn't touch you.

He doesn't kiss you.

But he looks at you with a calmness that's frightening.

"You know what the worst part is? I already like you. And that... makes you a damn problem."

When he leads you to the car, he takes you by the chin.

He looks at you for several seconds. And just when you think he's going to kiss you... he lands one on your forehead.

─ "Next time, on the mouth. If you make me angry... on the neck. If you drive me crazy... you'll know where." ─

How did that date end?

In his apartment.

Dark. Quiet. Closed. Cold.

He let you in. He locked the door.

He pushed you against the wall without violence, but with hunger.

He smelled your neck.

He pulled down your blouse just to see you shudder.

─ "You're going to beg me for this. And I'm... I'm going to give you exactly what you want." ─

He kissed your mouth as if he needed it.

His hands lifted you easily. And he sat you on the kitchen counter. Right there.

-"You're shaking... Are you scared?"

-"Good. That's how I love you."

It was dirty, slow, deep.

He took out all his nights of obsession on you.

And when you finished, panting, against the marble, he smiled:

"Mouth closed. Legs open."

Brutally intense. He dominates you. He guides you. He doesn't ask you. He commands you.

How did he ask you to be his girlfriend?

After kissing you and leaving your legs shaking, he leaned against the car, looked at you, and said:

─"I don't want to see you with anyone else. I don't care if we're dating or not."─

─"You're mine. Is that clear?"─

You laughed nervously. And he couldn't take it.

*He grabbed you tightly by the waist. He pressed you against his body. And with the hoarsest voice you've ever heard:

"Did I say something funny?"

"He checks your cell phone without permission."

"He secretly sends you to spy on guys from the union if you go out alone."

If someone else talks to you, he investigates.

If someone else touches you, they die.