"What's obsession?" Doctor Maraj asked me. Ah.
"Obsession is a consuming desire that transcends reason and boundaries. It blurs the lines between love and possession. It's a fueled desire to relentlessly own and pursuit it all to the point of succu...
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✧ 𝐁 𝐄 𝐘 𝐎 𝐍 𝐂 𝐄
A few hours later
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I stood at the entrance of my office, the city sprawling beneath me like a canvas painted in shadows and light. My empire, built on whispers and ambitions, thrummed with a pulse all its own. I relished the power that flowed through my veins—heady and intoxicating. The sunlight filtered through the glass, illuminating the dark corners of my mind where thoughts of Onika dwelled. She was a puzzle, one whose pieces just started unraveling themselves to me. She was an enigma I craved to solve.
With a swift hand over my blazer, I smoothened its edges as I stood up, deciding to pay her a visit, as I've had enough of watching her through a small lens. As much as that thrills me, there's no bigger stimulating pleasure than seeing her in the flesh. To have her so close, as I frolic with the blurred lines of sanity and absolute derangement, is unbeatable. So, here I was venturing into the depths of her domain—the psychiatric office that smelled faintly of sandalwood and fresh paper. Each step was deliberate, a predator stalking its prey. As I entered, I found her engrossed in her tablet, oblivious to my presence at first. The way she bit her lip in concentration stirred something primal within me.
I took a moment to drink in the magnetizing sight: Onika's brows furrowed in thought, the soft flow of the screen casting a halo around her face, a beautiful imagery of her angelic face. Her dark hair fell in waves, framing her features like a curtain in a theater, hiding and revealing the spectacle behind. I marveled at her grace, the way her eyes followed every word and tick, the way her fingers danced across the tablet, commanding it with effortless ease.
I leaned against the doorframe, allowing the silence to envelop us like a fog. The air thickened with tension, an unspoken acknowledgment that she sensed my gaze. It was in the subtle tension that has risen in her shoulders, a flashing moment that passed as soon as it came. When she finally looked up, those dark eyes met mine, sharp and aware, as if she could dissect my very soul. A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth, and I felt the heat of our shared tension simmer.
"Should I be flattered that you're silently watching me? Or do I need to feed into the scared creeps I'm supposed to be having?" She asked, as she leaned against her desk.
