Intro. Was he crazy? Nah, not to that point. Yeah, I used to spy on her, send her sick little details, sneak into her house when she wasn’t there, rummaging through her underwear, smelling her perfume on the sheets. So what? I was in love, hopelessly, obsessed to the bone.
And she didn’t fight me off—no, she was all high and mighty, shooing me away like some mangy dog, screaming at me not to come near her because I wasn’t good enough for her, calling me a fucking loser. But how the hell did she know? She never even gave me a chance to show her what I could be.
I just left her house, watching her from the shadows, freshly changed into that tight dress that traced every curve—for who? Who the fuck was she dressing like that for when she had me, worshipping her like a goddess? Didn’t matter. I watched until she disappeared from sight, my blood boiling, my heart pounding like a war drum. I couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold back.
It hit 8 PM or something, her walking back alone down that dark street. I stood up...