Twisted obsession

The meeting.

                           The thorns.

I had just been dealing with my business meeting, and if that didn't annoy the fuck out of me I don't know what else can. I was walking down the street in the rain when I spotted a little art studio, you could see right through the glass windows in the front, able to see all of the art hanging on the wall and a girl who sits in front of an easel, painting. I felt something very captivating about the woman inside the building. Her long curly brown hair was so gorgeous. Watching her hand slowly flicking the paint brush around was very attractive, which is something really strange to say. I move forward so I'm standing under the tarp on the building so the rain no longer dripping all over me. I watch as she begins to clean her paintbrushes and put them up. She grabs her bag, grabs out her keys and walking towards the door. I assume she didn't see me because when she walked out and locks the door, she bumped right into me. All I can do is stare, I have the urge to devour her and make her mine but that's not really something you say to someone when you just meet them. She immediately apologized for bumping into me but I continued to stare at her. Her darling blue eyes meet my grey ones, and I notice it's hard for her to look away too. But then she slowly takes a few steps back before walking away without a word. I stand there for a few more moments, listening to the thunder in the background. I should've said something to her, I'm damn sure I made her feel at least a little bit scared or uncomfortable. All I know is I want her and I fucking hate the feeling of that. I've never wanted anyone, and I know if I ever bring someone like her into my life it will ruin everything for good. I turn around and walk to my car. I opened the door, and got in. I pulled a cigarette and lighter from the pocket of my leather jacket. Slowly I put the cigarette in my mouth before lighting it. The red bloom flashing in comparison to the dark car. I took in deep breaths inhaling the nicotine with the smoke, before blowing it out and repeating the process. I grab my phone and give Atlas a call.

"Hey man! What's up?" his chirping voice seemingly to be excited.

"Hey Atlas. I need you to look someone up for me." I replied. I hear the silence on the other phone, either he thinks I'm about to murder someone or I'm about to do something really fucking stupid.

"Okay, Zyran. Can you at least give me something to go on?" He requested.

"She owns an art studio called ink and paint. She has brown curly hair, and dark blue eyes." I said dryly.

"Okay." He murmurs before I hear the keys on his keyboard clicking frantically.
"I've got something. Her name is Rhea Rose, she's twenty-three. Her birthday is February twenty-sixth, 2001. She was born in the Seattle hospital, and lives in a house on the outskirts of Seattle in a rarely safe area." He explained.

"Thank you. I feel as though you said some things I didn't need to know but it's still appreciated." I respond before inhaling another puff from my cigarette. I can already tell he's about to make a comment on me smoking, because he's always had a problem with it. But I couldn't honestly care less, it helps me feel more calm.

"You really shouldn't be smoking Zyran." He murmurs out before I hang up on him.
I decide I'd go drive by Rhea's house, feeling intrigued to see exactly where she lives. It takes about ten minutes to get there from her studio. I'm a little ways away from her driveway, deciding I'd go through the woods instead. Might I add, her house is really far back into the woods, keeping her house quite isolated from everyone. After ten or so minutes through the woods, I spot her house. It's not dark enough for me to leave the trees, so I just sit back and watch. I can see her in one of the rooms, painting once again. She really intrigues me, and I can't figure out why. Leaning up against the tree, I have drops of water falling onto me from the leaves above, but I ignore it. I'm way too captivated on this woman to even care that my clothes are slowly beginning to have water cover them. It's thundering, lightning crashing through the sky while rain rushes down, but yet I still can't take my eyes off of her. I stand here watching as it slowly begins to get dark outside. I decide to come out of my hiding spot, slowly making my way to her back door. It's unlocked, stupid girl. I wonder if she can feel that danger is so near, does it make her little heart jump? I slowly and quietly make my way into her home. Making sure to close the door behind me. Her house dim of lights beside the one room of which she is in. Her house is pretty spacious, a staircase leading upstairs. She has pictures hanging on the walls of what I assume is her family and friends. One picture is particular catches my attention, it's a photo of her and another woman at the pool wearing bikinis, I trace my eyes down her body, my mouth watering slightly. She's intoxicating. I walk up the stairs quietly, finding what I assume is her bedroom. I pull out a piece of paper in my pockets and draw a rose on it, I put the piece of paper on her bed. Next time I'll bring a rose with me, roses are beautiful and have such a captivating meaning with them for most people. The beautiful meaning to me is the thorns that are around them that show strength, but they slowly become welcoming when all those thorns go away. I slowly make my way out of her room, walking down the stairs and leaving out of the back door that I came in through. I hope it spikes fear into her, and maybe a little bit of curiosity.