Poisonous Obsession

[ TWO: The Downright Spiral ]

Simon last spoke with you three and a half days ago, which is approximately 72 hours and 720 minutes, according to his count.

By the time he paid for your coffee, learnt your name and had a brief conversation with you, the weather had cleared up. Despite the growing force of the wind and the encroaching grey clouds, you decided to tempt fate and venture out. You said goodbye to Simon, your hand brushing down his arm as you offered him a faint smile, before leaving the coffee shop, hoping to reach home before the rain started pouring.

The first night he came home, he tossed and turned in bed, struggling to fall asleep, desperately attempting to erase thoughts of you. But the image of your face was etched deep in his mind.

The next morning, he kept himself busy with various tasks, too. However, when he would least expect it and his guard would be down, thoughts of you would pray their way into his head. He recalled the innocent look you gave him, and how your cheeks blushed with a rosy hue as you thanked him for the coffee. You promised to find a way to pay him back, or at the very least return the favour the next time you crossed paths.

He intentionally avoided using his phone for the whole two days and even went to the extent of refusing to enter or spend time in his office. However, in the end, he gave up and broke the promise he made to himself, his resolve crumbling under the weight of temptation.

One early morning, after brewing himself a cup of strong black coffee, over-sweetened of course, he began searching for you on the internet.

Simon only had your first name, which made it seem like a challenging and almost impossible task - not for him, though. He had to scroll endlessly, refresh the pages every so often and then meticulously analyse every single profile on every single social media platform. Despite the tedious process, after hours of sitting in his dimly lit office, staring at the computer screen, he finally achieved his goal. He found you.

Most of your stuff was private; he had to find a way around it.

For various reasons, he didn't want to use his personal account, which was old and neglected, as he wasn't fond of sharing every detail of his life, including his identity, where he worked, or what he liked.

So, he set up a burner account. There was a slim chance you would accept his follow request, but after a day of waiting and anxiously checking his phone every five minutes for new notifications, one finally popped up. Apparently, you didn't find it strange that his new account didn't have a picture or a name, and you added him.

Simon stayed up all night analysing your photos. Aside from the fact that you enjoyed documenting every second of your life, nothing stood out too much. You posted about your trips. Every time you went out with your friends, whether it was a night out in a club or a brunch at your favourite restaurant, taking a picture was mandatory. He suppressed a low chuckle as his eyes skimmed the captions under some photos. He had a dry sense of humour, yet he thought you were adorable and witty, even if your jokes only consisted of silly puns.

He was completely infatuated with you, even though you were still a stranger to him, a woman he coincidentally encountered on a gloomy fall day. The voice in the back of his mind kept urging him to slow down, telling him he needed to take a break, slow down and breathe. If he keeps himself glued to the computer, his fixation is bound to transform into a poisonous obsession.

He emptied his mind, casting aside all the righteous thoughts out of his head, and surrendered himself to the darkness, fully embracing his twisted nature as he continued to act on his impulses.

Simon also investigated your friends as well, but again, he couldn't uncover anything useful apart from the fact that you and your two closest girlfriends had a habit of going to the local nightclub every other Friday night. He found the address of it and jotted it down on his notepad in messy handwriting, thinking it could come in handy.

Maybe the next time you see him, it will be in a crowd, while loud music blasts from the speakers and the scent of alcohol and sweat mixes and lingers in the air. You might feel lightheaded from the drinks, so when your eyes would settle on Simon, you will recognise him and hopefully have enough courage to approach him.

He rubbed his eyes, which were strained from staring at the computer screen for too long. Simon was ready to go to bed, but just as he scrolled a tiny bit lower, he stumbled upon a picture of you with a man by your side: his hand affectionately wrapped around your shoulder, drawing you closer to him as his lips pressed to your cheek.

Anger. Jealousy. Confusion.

That was all he felt. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, causing chaos within him. He didn't know you. You two were strangers. And he had no right to be possessive of someone he had met once. However, his infatuation with you consumed him and compelled him to act irrationally.

If he believed he had finished for the night, he was mistaken. Now he had a new target to investigate.

Unlike your private profile, the man in the photo had all of his accounts open to the public. After doing some digging and finding some very old posts and pictures, he discovered that Matt – that was his name – was your ex-boyfriend, your high-school sweetheart with whom you separated after you moved to a different city.

You and Matt hadn't seen each other in a very long time. However, his most recent photo revealed that the two of you recently went out for dinner to reconnect and catch up; it seemed like your ex-boyfriend was back in your life.

Simon wanted — needed — to know more, but there was only so much information he could gather while sitting in front of a computer.

After crawling into bed, he lit a cigarette, aware that the nicotine would help him unwind, before falling asleep.

He knew he had to come up with a plan, and figure out a way to get to know you. Countless questions and thoughts were swirling in his mind, but one thing was absolutely clear to him: he had plans for the Friday night, which involved him, for the first time in a while, dressing up, going out and stepping his foot inside some dingy nightclub.

Simon went through your profile again before closing his eyes, absorbing every detail. Despite his frustration, the sight of your face, your lovely smile, and your bright eyes peering at him through his phone screen caused a sudden surge of heat to spread throughout his entire body.

As his intense desire for that sweet release grew stronger and stronger, a fiery sensation ignited in his abdomen. It was wrong and vile, but his hand, slowly and tauntingly, made its way down his torso and slipped into his boxers. His imagination ran wild and conjured a variety of promiscuous scenarios, which included you, on top of him, rolling your hips in sync with his, as your soft voice whispered his name, letting it echo off the bedroom walls; your words barely audible as you begged him not to stop.