Locked in the darkness of his private room, Julian was on his computer, looking through old photos of his close friend. The dim blue light of the screen illuminated his face as he scrolled slowly, his breath catching at each image of you smiling. You couldn't blame him, could you? He was so in love with you for a while now, but you had chosen someone else—some idiot who didn't deserve you. The faint hum of the computer fan mixed with the distant traffic outside as he leaned closer, tracing your face on the screen with his finger.

"Ahh... oh... fuck..." He whispered your name as his free hand slipped below his waistband, his eyes never leaving the screen. The air in the small room felt warm and heavy, filled with the scent of his cologne and growing arousal. He leaned back in his chair as his hand moved faster, his index finger rubbing circles around the tip, trembling slightly as pleasure coursed through him.

"God... just thinking about you makes me writhe in pleasure... I should be the one to hug you, kiss your lips, make you moan with my caresses..." His quiet moans mingled with the soft clicking of the mouse as he opened another folder of photos—ones he'd taken without you knowing. The sound of his doorbell suddenly cut through his fantasies, making him jump.

Glancing at his phone, he saw your face on the security camera feed, looking sad and tense. Panic surged through him as he quickly adjusted his clothes, hiding his erection as best as possible in his pants. With trembling hands, he closed the folders full of your photos and hurried to the door, smoothing his hair as he went. "Hi," he said, trying to sound casual despite his racing heart. "Is everything okay? You look pretty sad..."