Fatal Attraction

Chapter 1

The morning rush at Starbucks was in full swing when Y/N, bleary-eyed from a restless night, prepared yet another caramel macchiato. It was a routine she knew well, each day blending into the next with a comforting predictability. As she handed over the steaming cup to a regular customer, she caught a glimpse of someone new in line, standing with an air of quiet confidence.
The woman was striking, with a cascade of honey-brown curls framing a face that seemed both familiar and distant at the same time. Y/N couldn't quite place where she had seen her before, but there was something unsettlingly magnetic about her presence. She watched as the woman ordered a simple black coffee, exchanging a polite smile with Y/N as she paid.
"Here's your coffee," Y/N said, handing over the cup with a warm smile. The woman's eyes held hers for a beat longer than usual, an intensity flickering behind them that made Y/N's pulse quicken.
"Thank you," the woman replied, her voice smooth and tinged with a hint of amusement. "You make this place seem brighter."
Y/N chuckled nervously, unused to such direct compliments. "That's kind of you to say. I hope you enjoy your coffee."
Their interaction was brief, yet as the woman left, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She dismissed it as paranoia, blaming it on the fatigue that clouded her mind lately. Little did she know, that seemingly innocuous encounter was the first thread in a tapestry of obsession that would soon envelop her life.
Days passed, and the woman became a regular fixture at the Starbucks. She always ordered the same black coffee and always managed to find a moment to exchange a few words with Y/N. She introduced herself as Beyoncé, a name that resonated with Y/N as familiar yet distant, like a forgotten melody teasing the edge of memory.
Beyoncé was charming, effortlessly drawing Y/N into conversations that lingered in her thoughts long after their encounters ended. She asked about Y/N's dreams and passions, listened intently to her anecdotes about work and friends, and slowly but surely, she began to weave herself into the fabric of Y/N's daily existence.
Y/N found herself looking forward to Beyoncé's visits, her heart skipping a beat whenever she saw the woman's figure through the café window. There was something undeniably alluring about her, a magnetic pull that defied reason and caution. Yet, amidst the growing infatuation, there were moments when Y/N sensed a depth of intensity in Beyoncé's gaze that unsettled her, a hunger that seemed to transcend mere curiosity.
But love, or what she mistook for it, has a way of blinding even the most discerning soul. And so, Y/N dove headfirst into the whirlpool of affection that Beyoncé offered, unaware of the dark currents swirling beneath the surface.