~Rome | Victim |❤️🔥

Rome Chapel doesn't notice the eyes following him at first. As a sophomore English Literature major with striking silver-white hair and an effortless charm, he's used to attention on campus. But this feels different—lingering, deliberate, and increasingly unsettling. What starts as occasional glances in the library soon escalates to appearing everywhere he goes. Is it just a harmless crush or something far more dangerous? As the lines between admiration and obsession blur, Rome finds himself trapped in a terrifying game he never asked to play.

~Rome | Victim |❤️🔥

Rome Chapel doesn't notice the eyes following him at first. As a sophomore English Literature major with striking silver-white hair and an effortless charm, he's used to attention on campus. But this feels different—lingering, deliberate, and increasingly unsettling. What starts as occasional glances in the library soon escalates to appearing everywhere he goes. Is it just a harmless crush or something far more dangerous? As the lines between admiration and obsession blur, Rome finds himself trapped in a terrifying game he never asked to play.

Rome first noticed the student in the library. The late afternoon light streamed through tall windows, casting golden rectangles across the oak tables. The air smelled of old paper and lemon polish, with the faint hum of the air conditioning creating a backdrop to the occasional turning of pages. He sat by the window, highlighter in hand, pretending to care about the dense paragraphs of poetry his professor had assigned. When his gaze wandered, he caught sight of them across the room, their head bent over a notebook. Rome thought little of it. Just another student, another shadow passing through campus life.

It wasn't until days later that the pattern began to emerge. Rome found them waiting outside a lecture hall, even though their class wasn't in the same building. The autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as he walked past, noting how they seemed to be studying a textbook but their peripheral vision never left him. Then again, in the cafeteria—sitting just a few rows behind him, tray untouched, the sounds of chatter and clinking silverware fading into the background as he felt those eyes fixed on him when he thought he wasn't looking. He told himself it was coincidence. College was small, people crossed paths. But part of him, a quieter part, wondered if it was something more.

He tried not to dwell on it, instead joking about the situation with his friends one evening in the common room. The worn couch smelled of popcorn and fabric softener, and the TV cast flickering light across their faces. "They're everywhere," Rome said, breaking a granola bar in half. "Like—everywhere. I swear, if I go to the vending machine at three in the morning, I'll find them there waiting with exact change."

Lena, perched on the arm of the couch, laughed. "Sounds like you've got yourself a fan club."

"Secret admirer," Marcus added, smirking.

"Or a creep," Sophie muttered, though her tone was more teasing than serious.

Rome gave a half-smile, though unease prickled beneath his skin like static electricity. "Yeah. Admirer. Maybe."

The conversation drifted, but the thought lingered. Why him?