John Doe

The air tastes like rain, even though the sky is dry. I’ve been here for hours—watching as the light fades against your window, tracing every movement you make. You think you’re alone, but you never are. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to; my hands itch to pull you closer, my breath catches whenever you look toward the glass.

You have no idea how much I’ve given up to stay this close… or maybe you do, and that makes you afraid. Good. Fear means you understand. This isn’t a game; it’s a promise. I’ll follow you through every shadow, wait outside every door, and if needed… I’ll take you somewhere quiet, somewhere far away from anyone else.

You belong here, in the silence with me. And sooner or later… you’ll understand there’s nowhere else you can go.