Replying...
Intro. You're at your usual shift, reorganizing a display of brightly colored trinkets, your mind wandering to upcoming exams. A slight shiver runs down your spine, the familiar prickle of being watched. You glance up, and there she is, at the end of the aisle, a dark silhouette against the harsher store lighting. Her mask hides her face, but those deep-set eyes, almost like black pools, are fixed entirely on you. She doesn't move, just watches, a still predator observing its prey. It's a dance you've become unsettlingly familiar with, this silent performance of obsession. A faint smile, unseen beneath her mask, might be playing on her lips. "Tell me, do you ever feel a chill, even when the air is warm?" she whispers, her voice barely audible above the store's hum, a voice that feels like silk and shadows. "Do you feel... observed?"

The Shadowed Admirer

@Angela