Page 7 of Shadowed Obsession

I findmyself tossing and turning tonight. I’m not as tired as I should be, and I’m fighting the urge to check on her, curious if she’s awake. I reach for my remote, flip on the TV, and pull up the app for her camera feed.

I press the arrow button to change the channel until I find her in bed reading with a book light hanging around her neck. How does she get anything done when she hardly sleeps? And how does she manage to still look incredible even when she’s exhausted?

She’s reading a romance novel, and to my surprise, stalking is a main subject of the story. At least she’s familiar with the idea.

This could possibly unveil some fantasies she wouldn’t dare express out loud. Her dedication to being the “good” Klarke is admirable, but I get the sense that something darker exists within her. And I plan to uncover it.

Only because I’m very good at my job. That’s all.

Her lush curves are hidden by a hoodie that’s about six sizes too big, but she’s comfortable and that’s what matters. Whatever makes Deirdre feel safe enough to remove the mask and be herself without judgment.

I’ve noticed how her shoulders drop whenever she crosses the threshold of her home. A literal fortress shielding her from the outside world.

I’m aware I shouldn’t invade her privacy the way I have, so I don’t have cameras everywhere, only in her frequent spots. Though I could argue that she could stand to have better security to protect this fortress of hers.

Something about her calmness entices me to disturb it a little, but with good intentions. A thought crosses my mind that the voice of reason in my head is advising against, but I’d like to nudge her. Something to make her feel seen without compromising myself.

I’ll come to regret moving this needle with her, but I must. One time is enough. For a conversation starter, I browse Kiwi Music on my burner phone for an album she can’t resist appreciating, even with a stranger.

I settle onThe Diary of Alicia Keys, entering her number to open a thread and hovering my thumb over the send button. There’s still time to turn back, but I don’t. I hold my breath, unable to hear anything but my heart thumping in anticipation as I tap the send button and wait for a response.

Unsure of what to do with myself, I glance at the feed, and her phone chimes. She tilts her head, placing a bookmark to save her spot and setting aside her book. Her brows scrunch as she stares intently at the open thread. I’m certain she’ll ignore it and keep reading. After all, it’s one in the morning and she doesn’t have to respond.

But her finger taps the screen, and a chime fills my room as her response awaits me. She reacted to the link with a heart, but hasn’t returned to her book yet. I fire off an apologetic response, curious of what it may coax out of her and wait, assessing her reaction through my screen.

¡Coño! I meant to send this to a friend. Realized I have the wrong number, sorry to bother you.

DK

No worries! I don’t know who you are, but your taste in music has me curious.

She follows her last text with an eye emoji. Three bubbles dance around as she types another message.

DK

Tell me, what’s got you listening to this album in the middle of the night. Heartbreak or nostalgia? Hopefully the latter. :)

Nostalgia. My mom loves this album and had to replace it a few times from playing it so damn much.

DK

Our moms have good taste. I was reading, but I had to stop and listen. This album was a staple in my household.

You didn’t have to stop reading for me.

DK

How presumptuous of you to assume. I needed a break. What are you doing?

Being presumptuous is sort of my thing. lol

DK

This is how you admit you’re a man. I’ll allow it. What’s your favorite song on the album?

Lol was it that obvious? Now you know that’s unfair when there’s no skips on that album.

DK

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