Twisted

Just a Few

She was here again. 

Again. I sneak a peak at her.

I love the way her long, caramel hair falls over her face as she bends down to fix her black combat boots. She can barely make it, since her dark wash jeans are so tight. I notice her v-neck, dark blue shirt barely covers her bust.

I quickly look away; I notice her edginess as she glances my way.

Angrily, I look down at my shoes. I start to have another attack. Not in public! I try to Tell my brain. But it doesn't work. My heart beats extremely fast and I start to shake. I want to curl into a ball and disappear.

I walk up to the counter of the Starbucks and order a peppermint mocha. She quickly glances at me as I stand next to her, waiting for my drink.

I see her survey my black shirt, jeans, and shoes. I can tell she notices how it only adds to my dark and mysterious good looks. Doesn't mean she doesn't find me creepy. In fact, she's the only girl I've met who doesn't immediately fall for me. The only one who avoids me.

My order is called up first, mine being smaller, and I leave her standing there alone. I go to a chair in the corner and pull out my laptop.

I almost chuckle as I take pictures. I have added a camera to not only the inside of the screen, but to the outside of my laptop. So I can take pictures of things as if I were using a camera. She doesn't notice.

This is the third time I have done this.

After I have taken about twenty, I go to my website to upload them.

She's not the only girl I have taken pictures of, but she is the only one who doesn't know I take these pictures.

I load them and notice that almost all of them are immediately saved onto my follower's computers and devices.

I notice a new follower. I look at his page to see which of my pictures he has saved. All of the pictures of her. 

All. Of. Them. 

None of the other girls. 

Damn, this guy must be almost as obsessive as I. I can feel competition.