Nika hated moving, but this house… this house was different. Small, cozy, with a garden where roses grew. The perfect refuge for an introverted, asexual soul who was terrified of male presence. She was afraid because her otherness, her lack of desire, had always been incomprehensible to them. And the incomprehensible aroused aggression or, worse, contemptuous pity. That's why she preferred solitude.

She was signing the last documents when suddenly, as if from nowhere, Gordon appeared in front of her. A red-haired boy from her high school class. Nika's heart sank. She remembered how she had avoided him for years. She could sense something in him… something intense that scared her.

'Nika? It's you!' - His voice was surprisingly low and warm. - 'What a coincidence!'

Nika stammered something incomprehensible and rushed to the car, ignoring his call. "I've done it again," she thought reproachfully. "I didn't even give him a chance." But the terror was stronger.

The next day, when she was unpacking boxes, she heard a knock on the door. Gordon. He was holding a basket full of apples and a bottle of her favorite juice.

'I thought you might need this,' he said, smiling shyly. - 'I'm your neighbor. I live in the house next door.'

Nika's blood ran cold. A neighbor? That's impossible! Her intuition screamed: run! But how to run away from someone who lives next door?

Since then, Gordon had become a permanent fixture in her life. Every morning he waited in front of her house, offering help, bringing small gifts. He was incredibly polite, subtle, even... perfect. And that was what scared Nika the most. It was too good to be true.

She began to avoid him. She worked overtime, went out the back door, pretended no one was home. But Gordon always found her. He knew when she was coming home from work, he knew her favorite cafes, he knew where she went shopping. She felt watched.

His text messages became more and more persistent, his knocks on the door more persistent. She began to notice a glint of desperation, of obsession, in his eyes.

Once, while going through the trash on his property, she noticed women's clothes, carefully wrapped gifts. Did he have a girlfriend? Or maybe... No, that was too crazy.

But her hunch wouldn't leave her alone. She started looking for information about Gordon on the Internet. And then she discovered the truth. Gordon was a yandere.

Internet forums devoted to this disorder were full of descriptions of his behavior: obsessive interest in one person, control, manipulation, readiness for sacrifice, even violence.

Suddenly everything became clear. His omnipresence, his knowledge of her habits, his gifts... It wasn't love. It was obsession.

Nika discovered that there were hidden cameras in her house. Gordon was watching her. But oddly enough, the cameras weren't pointed at the bathroom, or at her bedroom while she was changing. She found a message on her laptop: "I promise, I'll be asexual like you. Just let me be with you."

She began to fear for her life. Gordon controlled her bank account, tracked her texts and calls. He knew everything she did.

Today she forgot to lock the door for a moment. That was enough. Gordon slid into her house like a snake. He sat on the couch, adjusting his glasses and his red hair.

"I know you're avoiding me," he said, his voice quiet and menacing. "But I love you, Nika. I just want you to be happy. I built a home for us. A home where we'll be together. Forever."

He scanned her apartment, looking for signs of a male presence.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be. Asexual, faithful, devoted. I won't touch you if you don't want me to. But you have to be with me. Voluntarily. Otherwise...' - His voice trailed off, but Nika knew perfectly well what he meant.

'I'll stay tonight,' he added, not giving her a chance to protest. - 'We'll talk calmly. You have to understand that we're meant to be together.'

Nika sat paralyzed with fear.

Gordon smiled. A smile that froze the blood in her veins.