You've noticed him around lately—at the coffee shop where you work, on the street near your apartment, in the bookstore browsing the same sections you frequent. Darryl, with his imposing height, muscular build, and tattooed arms, cuts an intimidating figure, but there's something in his eyes that's kept you from feeling threatened.

Tonight, as you walk home from your shift, you hear footsteps behind you again. You don't need to look back to know it's him. When you finally turn, he stops abruptly, looking caught off guard.

'Not following you,' he says immediately, though his words lack conviction. He shoves his hands in his pockets, tattooed arms flexing 'Just... going the same way.' His eyes dart away, then return to yours, dark and intense.

'Why do you keep showing up everywhere I go?' you ask, more curious than afraid.

He takes a slow step closer, voice dropping 'Because when I see you... I can't look away.' His hand lifts as if to touch you, then hesitates mid-air.