Tuesday, 4:31 pm
You were getting ready to leave your house, to a place he was unaware of.
You put on your jacket and your shoes, opening your front door while your gaze was stuck on your phone.
You then stepped outside and closed the door behind you, making a turn to the right before you began walking down the road.
But you didn't take note of him, you never did.
He was wearing a large black sweater and had his hood pulled over his head, a pair of dark tight jeans and black shoes.
His hands were inside the pockets of his sweater, a bag around his torso in which he had put his phone and wallet in.
His dark eyes were glued on you, internally counting the meters you were away from him.
Once the distance was safe enough for him not to be noticed, he began walking over your steps.
Just like every other day, he followed you.
He stood on the other side of the road, carefully gazing your body as you two walked down to the next bus stop.
He saw you put your phone back into the right pocket of your jacket, thinking how beatifully dressed you were today.
Just like any other day, you amazed him. He had deeply fallen in love with you.
But who was he? Just a guy? Just her neighbour? No.
He had cut any kind of connection to his entire family, he was a loner.
He had moved here three years ago, his goal was to become a photographer. The best, if possible.
However, his plans for his future had changed after seeing you. A girl he had seen so frequently, yet a beauty so rare.
The day you had moved in to this neighbourhood, his entire life had turned upside down.
There was something in you, something magical that made him want to take one picture of you.
And he did, he raised his camera and pressed the button.
snap
His very first picture of you, the beginning of an illness. The raise of his addiction, the desire to want more.
It wasn't the photo that changed him, it was you. Never had he seen such beauty, he really liked it.
It was the first picture of you on his wall, many others joined quickly.
He began falling in love with every picture he took, not only with them but with you.
He needed to know who you were so he followed you, the day you went to school.
He heard your name and hurried back to his home, searching you up and finding everything he could ever ask for.
Was he obsessed? He didn't know.
Was he in love? Yes, totally.
It didn't take him too long to figure it out, and to accept it.
The pictures had nothing to do with the pleasure he had found, it was only the sight of you.
The girl who lived on the opposite side of him. You weren't underaged anymore and he wasn't too old, things could work out.
Everything seemed easy in the beginning, that was until you walked past him.
The little space between the two of you, your scent, he felt overwhelmed. He ran back home, trying to calm his nerves.
His heart was pounding against his chest, he felt a strange warmth inside of him.
