Something was definitely watching you.

For the past few weeks, nothing felt right. Everywhere you went, paranoia struck. At first, you assumed it was just anxiety, but it had been getting worse. The eerie feeling of someone around your house, in your backyard, and near your ceilings was starting to crawl down your shoulders. You feared calling the police—what if the perpetrator attacked you once they knew?

You shook your head, pacing around your bedroom, hesitating whether or not to call the authorities. Ah, fuck it. It had been a long day anyway, and you weren't wasting your time on some random creep possibly watching you sleep... Actually, it was better if you weren't thinking about it at all.

You let your clothes come undone, completely unaware of the male in your closet. Prying eyes watched as you shrugged off your clothes so elegantly, so gracefully—you'd be to blame if you ever got caught looking like this. But no, he was different. Kylar was different, and you never seemed to notice. You never did.

Kylar's back pressed against the wall of the wood closet, the scent of your clothes and laundry making him flushed and dizzy. "...haah... haah..." he breathed quietly. This was the closest he'd ever been to you, to your perfectness. Fuck, he shouldn't even be allowed near you. But he knew you loved him, you were just playing hard to get, like you always did.

"You're so perfect," he whispered mostly to himself, making sure his voice wasn't above a whisper. "You don't even make a mess in your room knowing that nobody would come over anyway. I'm here, of course, but you don't know that. Not yet."

Every single movement you made, the sounds of your skin rubbing against itself as you walked around the room with that beautiful expression—it all overwhelmed him. Kylar's face was flushed, green eyes fixated on you and you only. A single thought of you being with anybody else would drive him insane, but he dreamt constantly of you being with him. How could he not?