Trolled |Compete|

[18]: How to Deal with a Sexy Stalker

[July 7]

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It had been several hours since I'd spoken to him but there I was, in front of my desktop frozen in thought again. I stared blankly at the monitor as disbelief coursed through my veins like the ocean at high tide.

Was I starting to like this guy?

His words echoed in my skull like a bad pop song, 'Oh kitten, that's not possible. Not when you're involved.' Even as I recalled them a wave of pins and needles came over me. His words had somehow become a turn on and I now had one enormous problem on my hands.

I knew there was something off about him, I felt it in my gut from the day we met and even now I was certain he was unusual. There wasn't a person alive that, in their right state of mind, would talk to someone with two different accounts simultaneously. Yet I was positive he just had and it baffled me.

Congratulations Tabitha, you have the hots for a psychopath...

Did I really come across that stupid, even though he was the one who clearly lacked IQ points? So what if on day one he told me his main character was Dario. 

Even though I told him I wouldn't, I had in fact, looked him up. What kind of player would I be if I didn't check his armory? Dario had been impressive and I'd been slightly intimidated that he was better geared than me. 

Was it coincidence Kegar showed up on the forums the next day? No, I wasn't convinced for a second. There was every possibility that he had a second account and when the timing was taken into consideration I was confident my assumption was correct.

But you don't really know...

The little voice in the back of my mind chimed in to remind me why I was so irritated. All I had was a gut instinct to go off of. I had no facts other than Raptar was a troll and this sort of stunt was right up his alley. The guy had 'player' written all over him and because of that, I couldn't let the tinge of heat he brought to my skin wreak havoc on my judgment. 

A cynical laugh escaped my lips. In a way it was comical, the charade he had created, pretending to be the sexy joker and the normal sweet guy. Like he took two polar opposite personality archetypes and was now balls deep in an experiment. I didn't want to be the bunt of his joke or his test subject. 

But the attention...

My eyelids fell in defeat. Once again the voice proved to be correct. If I were honest his obsession with me was kind of...well, it was hot. No one had ever shown interest in me the way he did or provoke this desire within me. I wanted to log on just to see what he would say next. I was an emotionally starved child greedily basking in the long-sought attention.

With a sigh, I refocused my eyes as I reached for the highball glass next to me. The pinkish liquid slid down my throat in a feeble attempt to cool my heated body.

Who's pathetic now?

I wasn't one to drink an excessive amount, however, I didn't have work the next day or plans to speak of. While some could drink without repercussions I suffered from 'hangover from hell' syndrome the next day.

I didn't want to admit it but I knew the reason for my self medicating was Raptar. He had become a problem I wanted to both block out and obsess over at the same time. The last thing I wanted was this curiosity to know what he looked like or where he lived. The thoughts wouldn't leave though and so I turned to my dear old friend, Sangria.

What would happen if you messaged him?

The little voice echoed, now backed by the potion of liquid courage I couldn't seem to put down.

"No... you couldn't...could you?" I mumbled to myself in doubt. My mouse hovered over Kegar's name, ready to open up a chat with him. All I needed to do was click.

I sat there, my eyes glued to my screen where his bright blue name waited. An enormous part of me wanted to. I was never the one who made the first contact, it was always him. How would he even react to me sending him the first message? Would he like it? Would he even respond? What if he said one of those sexy-as-hell things that caught my skin on fire?

I shook my head. No, the real question was would it be a mistake?

I downed the small bit of Sangria at the bottom of my glass before I stood.

I knew it was a mistake to reach out but I still let my mind obsess over it as I went to refill my glass. The living room wasn't large in my apartment. It could barely hold a coffee table, couch, and small entertainment center, so it took maybe a dozen strides to cross it. The kitchen matched the tiny size of the main living space but despite its size, I was proud to call it mine.

My mind overanalyzed the situation at hand while I stared into the refrigerator and tried to reason with myself through the haze. I had made sure he didn't get the wrong idea, made sure that I kept a firm wall in place. This would go against both and I couldn't tell if I wanted to follow through with it.

You already know you're going to...

With an annoyed groan, I took the entire Sangria pitcher from the cool space. I didn't want to look desperate but in case I came across that way what better cover than the classic excuse, 'I was drunk'.

I giggled at the level my evil cleverness had reached before I made my way back to my computer desk and sat back down. I took my time on my third glass of pink liquid and by the time my lips touched the fourth, I could feel the haze thicken around me.

If I was lucky I wouldn't remember half of this. 

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