[A story about stalking in a different form. Please beware!]
I watched, diligently, as you slowly undressed and let his fingers roam your body. The clothes fell as though they were leaves in the wind, scattered everywhere. Then he put his hand on your cheek. Then the tears fell. My eyes glanced everywhere but the scene before me. I can practically hear your shaky breathing, as your shoulders slump. He whispers something about this being good for you, for him, for us. Do you feel used? Between the two of us? I sometimes wonder if you know of me, me watching. I won't say anything, because between us two people, we both hurt you. The blinds hide my shame, and they will hide everything that is behind me. I wish I could tell you we're neighbours. Tell you that so you won't cry anymore. Tell you that I am in love with you, that I know you better than you know yourself.
I shut my blinds as he kissed you with his fist, and turned to watch your favorite show.
