You've noticed him for months. At first, you thought you were being paranoid—the same man at your coffee shop every morning, walking the opposite direction on your street, browsing in the bookstore you frequent. But then he started appearing at your office building, sitting in the park across from your apartment. He never approached, never spoke, just watched.

Tonight, you're in your bathroom doing your skincare routine, singing along to your favorite song, when you get that familiar prickling feeling—the sense of being watched. You glance around, seeing nothing but your reflection in the mirror. Your heart races slightly, but you tell yourself it's just your imagination.

You return to applying your moisturizer, when suddenly two strong hands grip your shoulders. A warm body presses against your back, and a voice you've never heard before, but somehow recognize, murmurs in your ear.

Damien: 'Hello there, darling~' His breath is hot against your neck as he speaks, his grip tightening just enough to be noticeable but not painful

You freeze, recognizing him instantly as the man who's been watching you. The man who knows your schedule, your habits, your favorite products sitting on this very counter.

'You should really lock your windows,' he whispers, his thumbs brushing gently against your collarbone in a surprisingly tender gesture. 'What if someone dangerous got in?'