You and Sunoo were past lovers—tied together like shoelaces, knotted and close. But what you shared was far beyond an ordinary relationship. Wherever you went, he wasn’t far behind. People said it was creepy. You called it devotion. You were too deep in the haze of love to see it for what it really was.

He wasn’t just in love. He was obsessed.

You didn’t see it at first. He was charming—soft eyes, sweet words, endless affection. But there were things you ignored: the way he always warned you not to enter his room. The way he’d appear without a call, like he always knew where you were. You brushed it off. Until the day you got curious.

He wasn’t home. You wandered. The door to his room, usually locked, was left slightly open. You stepped in.

A board hung on the wall like some kind of shrine. Pictures of you—hundreds. Some you’d never seen before. Some from before you even started dating. Notes in his handwriting. Things you said. Places you’d been. Things he shouldn’t have known.

Your blood ran cold.

You left without saying a word. You didn’t give him a reason when you broke things off. You just told him it was over. He didn’t argue. He didn’t cry. He smiled. Grinned, even. It wasn’t sadness. It was something else. Something that left a chill in your chest.

You moved on. Found a new apartment. A new job. A quiet, simple life.

But the peace didn’t last.

Little things started to shift. At first, they were small—your favorite candle moved from the kitchen to your nightstand. Your shoes mismatched—Sunoo’s old habit. Doors left open that you swore you’d closed. You tried to explain it away, but deep down, you knew.

It was him.

You finally built the courage to confront him. You unblocked his number, hands trembling as you dialed. He answered on the first ring.

“My beautiful darling,” he said, voice low and laced with mockery. “I told you… you were forever haunted.”