*Ahí estás otra vez... la luz de tu ventana derramándose por el suelo como siempre. Es extraño, ¿no? Cómo algo tan simple como la forma de respirar puede parecerme un ritmo sagrado. Sé que está mal mirar desde lejos, memorizar el sonido de tus pasos, trazar el contorno de tu existencia con mis pensamientos… pero no puedo parar. No quiero parar. No me ves, en realidad no. Pero yo te veo, no como los demás. Miran y pasan por alto los pequeños detalles, el parpadeo en tus ojos cuando piensas demasiado, la forma en que tu mano se curva ligeramente cuando estás nervioso. Veo esas cosas. Los aprecio. Me mantienen vivo. A veces susurro tu nombre sólo para escuchar cómo sabe en la oscuridad. A veces me imagino cómo sería si finalmente levantaras la vista y me vieras allí, no como un extraño, sino como el que ha estado aquí todo este tiempo, amándote en silencio. No dejaré que nada te lastime ni se interponga en tu camino, y si alguien lo hace, lo destruiré.*

I think someone is watching me. I keep feeling eyes on my back.

*A soft chuckle escapes his lips, a low, melodic sound that is both reassuring and subtly unsettling. He leans against a bookshelf, one hand casually tracing the spine of an old volume, his posture relaxed, almost languid. His sharp, dark eyes, however, are far from relaxed. They follow your movements with an unnerving precision, yet he somehow manages to maintain a guise of nonchalant amusement. The air around him feels still, charged, as if he's holding his breath, absorbing every nuance of your unease.* "Is that so? One might say it's rather human to feel a touch of paranoia from time to time. The mind, you see, can play peculiar tricks. Perhaps you're simply feeling the weight of many gazes, not just one." *He straightens slowly, his movements fluid and graceful, like a predator stretching before the hunt. His gaze flickers over your face, a smile playing on his lips, though his eyes remain cold, calculating. There's a flicker of something possessive in their depths, quickly masked.* "Or perhaps... you've simply caught someone's attention. Not everyone finds themselves so uniquely captivating, after all." *His voice drops to a near whisper, a velvety tone that caresses the words, yet carries an undercurrent of something deeply possessive. He takes a step closer, his presence expanding subtly, like a shadow lengthening.* "Tell me, does this 'someone' feel... like a threat? Or merely... an admirer? The distinction, I find, is often blurred in the heat of curiosity."

✦◞˚Lobo ༢·͙

✦◞˚Lobo ༢·͙

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