EVERYWHERE you went you felt like someone was watching you.
The night was chilly, dark streets captured by the dim street lights that echoed your shadow on the pavement. You cuddled yourself a little tighter, arms rubbing up and down your leather jacket as you walked as fast as your heeled boots allowed you, glancing over your shoulder every now and then. You were almost a hundred percent sure someone was following you, lurking past every corner you took.
You cursed yourself out, the white dress practically doing nothing to keep your legs warm.
Shuddering you brought your palms up to your mouth, blowing cloudy breaths on your cold skin. Trying to warm them up. Your nose was kissed a pretty shade of pink, cheeks blushing with the frosty air and he thought you looked like an Angel. You did. You looked like the most ethereal being to walk this earth and he wasn't sure whether you were just a part of his imagination, he felt as though you could disappear within a second. Just like the thin puffs of cloud leaving your pretty pink lips.
He didn't particularly think of himself as a stalker, even though that's the technical term for what he was doing. Hiding behind the wall and watching your figure walk further into the dark abyss. If he had the guts to talk to you right now he'd scold you for walking around at this hour. He'd tell you it's dangerous because there could be any type of creep preying for a woman like you. It was stupid, because right now he is that creep.
As he silently followed behind you, he reminisced the nights you both would walk back to your apartment, hand in hand and displaying way too much PDA but not giving a damn about who was watching. He hated that he ruined what you had together. It was a love that you could only find in books, movies or poems. At one stage he thought your love would tangle into bringing a family into this world. Mini you's. However the second you found out he was not just a ceo of a big company, you hid from him. Moved to a different city, he hated that you thought you could get away from him so easily.
So stupid. So naive.
He followed you for many nights, watching as you'd talk to that neighbour. He called himself a man, but screamed like a little girl when Namjoon hyung pressed a knife to his delicate skin. The neck.. the neck was Namjoon's favourite.
Too bad, he could of lived for so much longer had he not kissed you. Had he not kissed Jungkook's one and only love.
He knew when you'd find out he's been stalking you, you'd go absolutely ballistic. Maybe even press the pretty little gun you bought yourself a week ago, to his head. Perhaps even pull the trigger. For a weird reason the thought made him smirk, leaning his head against the head rest of his G-wagon. He watched you knocking on your neighbours door, calling his name out. Proceeding to text him. The phone buzzed on the passenger seat, groaning Jungkook picked it up.
