Marked by Obsession

7.

I scanned the place, walked by every isle between shelves to then find Erika, with Marcy.
I stayed behind the shelves, a line separating them from me. I got comfortable, intending to listen in to their conversation but Andrew pat my shoulder.
"Hey, what's up?"
I refrained myself from cursing at him.
"Bogdan sent me after Erika." I lied straight away, seeing him eye me and then the brunette that joined us.
"Oh, hi. I was just coming to find you. Where's-"
"He's in the cafeteria." I interrupted her, looking down as she is smaller than me.
She's tall, but still shorter than all of us.
Actually, just like... I had to stop thinking of Marcy.
I was losing my mind.

"You were talking to her."
Maybe I was too serious, Erika seemed a little intimidated and exchanged glances with the ginger boy standing there, hands in his jeans pockets.
"Yes, my timetable had a last minute change and I got moved in the same group as her for Criminology." She moved her chocolate hair from the front, behind her shoulders.
"What did she say? What did you ask her?" I insisted, and Andrew scoffed.
"Jesus, this feels like an interrogation."
"Kethan, I just asked her where the lecture room is. I've never been to her class, and she was here, so I thought of asking." Erika added, making me understand by her tone that I was putting too much pressure on the matter.

What happened after doesn't count.
We all went back to see Bogdan, found him googling some Romanian dish he craved.
I think it was called Sarmale.
They started laughing about the night before, which I very much wanted to forget.
Erika gave me a painkiller at some point, didn't help much with the headache.
I spent the next few hours working on that one essay I was behind on, managed to finish and submit it before the Criminology classes were done and both Erika and Marcy, had finished.
My friends then left, but I had other plans.

I knew I was doing something wrong, for which I'd definitely get arrested, and I felt conflicted.
I was caught between obsession, a lingering sense of guilt, and self-awareness that something is off about my behaviour.
I walked a few paces behind Marcy, keeping just far enough that she wouldn't notice me, my heart was racing.
Yes, I followed her, but purely as an act of protection.
Maybe I tried to rationalise my actions, convincing myself that my feelings are pure and yet, deep down I knew this behaviour isn't normal.
I felt anxious or rather, unsettled.

I told myself I wasn't stalking her, just making sure she got home safely. That's all.
Nothing weird about that. It's late evening, it gets colder and darker now that we're in Autumn.
The world is dangerous, right? And Marcy... she's too perfect, too delicate to be walking alone in the dark like this.
I watched her step off the sidewalk and cross the street, her ponytail swinging in rhythm with her steps. She was oblivious to everything around her, headphones in, head down, probably listening to music.
What if someone tried to approach her?
What if something happened and I wasn't there to stop it?

I was muttering.
"See? I'm just looking out for her. This is what you do for someone you care about, right?"
Funny, how I started talking to myself.
Looking for excuses for the way I was acting.
I like her. I really like her.
"I'm keeping her safe. That's what I'm doing."
But then there was this nagging voice in the back of my head, buried somewhere deep in my mind.
The one that asked— 'But why don't you just talk to her?'
I ignored it. Brushing it off like I always did.
I couldn't talk to her. Not yet. I wasn't ready.
She wasn't ready. She had to notice me first, realise on her own that we're meant to be together.

As Marcy turned the corner towards her street, I quickened my pace, careful to stay out of sight behind the few trees there. My palms were sweating, I was so damn nervous.
Was this really necessary?
Was I crossing some kind of line?
No, no... this wasn't about crossing lines.
I am not like those guys lurking around, watching people for no reason. I have a reason. A very good one.
I was just... looking after her.
Making sure she got home safe... kind of checking that she didn't bring anyone like Andrew with her, too.
No, Marcy would never do that.

But I couldn't deny it anymore— the way I feel a rush of adrenaline whenever I see her, the thrill of knowing her every move. It's more than just liking her. It's like needing her.
Like she fills some hole inside of me that no one else could. The idea of her being out of my reach, or worse, not knowing I exist— It drives me insane.
"I'm not a creep." I whispered to myself, trying to steady my breath as I stayed behind a parked car.
Marcy stopped in front of her house, fumbling for her keys.
"I'm not a creep. Just making sure she's okay."
I kept telling myself, and when she looked around I ducked behind the car. I cursed myself, my whole body was shaking.
She slipped inside her front door.
Only a few seconds later the light to the upper floor, I'm guessing her room, went on.

I stood in the shadows, unsure whether I felt relief that she was safe, or disappointment that I was left out of there— on the outside, watching. I shook my head quickly, what the hell was I thinking?
I hated that feeling— the tension between wanting to protect her and the growing fear that my obsession was consuming me.
I should have been happy just to see her get home safely, but all I felt was that emptiness.
I wanted more, so much more.
But I couldn't cross that line, could I?
"Tomorrow." I thought, walking back on the way to the university campus.
"Tomorrow I'll talk to her. I'll make it normal. This... will all make sense when I finally speak to her."

I was so hesitant, I still am.
What if tomorrow comes and I'll still be watching her from afar?