Watching Her

Dante’s POV

Call me crazy, but she’s mine. I’ve known that from the moment I saw her. Justin was just... quicker that night, but he doesn’t really understand what he has. Not like I do. She’s everything. Perfect. And soon, she’ll understand that she belongs to me—she just needs time. Time to come to terms with what’s inevitable.

I let myself into her apartment, the key cold in my hand. I had it copied one night while she was fast asleep at Justin’s. That night had been perfect—watching her sleep so peacefully, so unaware that I was already laying the groundwork. Already taking what was mine. The thought of it makes my heart race. I remember every detail of the first time I laid eyes on her. If I had just gone out that night instead of Justin, things would be different. She’d already be mine. But I’m patient. I can wait.

Stepping into her small apartment, I look around. It’s barely more than a studio. The kitchen, living room, bedroom, all crammed together in one open space. There’s a bathroom and a small closet, but that’s it. Modest. Just like her.

I smile, my eyes falling on the heart I drew on the window earlier. A little reminder for her, something to make her think of me when she walks in. But now, now that I’m inside, the place reeks of him. Justin. He stayed here last night. My stomach turns with disgust. The thought of him touching her, breathing in her space... I pull a small bottle from my pocket and spray it into the air. A perfect combination. It's her perfume and mine mixed. It’ll get rid of his stench.

I move toward her bed and sit down on the edge, the mattress sagging slightly under my weight. The drawer next to the bed catches my attention. I reach for the handle, my fingers curling around it as I pull it open. Things have moved. She’s been in here. My lips curl into a smile. She’s used something recently, and I wonder... was it after he left? Probably. I’ve seen her on those mornings, sneaking her hand under the covers as soon as the door shuts behind him. It’s like she’s trying to cleanse herself of his touch, trying to feel something real.

She won't do that with me, she won't need to.

I pull out one of her toys, my heart pounding as I run my tongue along it. The taste of her is immediate, unmistakable. She really should clean these things better, but I’m glad she doesn’t. She is mine. She just doesn’t realize it yet.

My hand closes around a small nightie on the beg. I bring it to my face, but it reeks of him. Disgusted, I throw it aside, getting up to rummage through the laundry hamper. I find what I’m looking for—a pair of her workout shorts. I bring them to my nose, inhaling deeply. Her scent floods my senses. Pure. Addictive. It makes my head spin, and I can’t help but smile. Soon, I’ll be able to smell her all day, every day. Soon, this place will be mine too.

I lie back on her bed, the fabric of her shorts pressed against my face as I breathe her in. My mind races with thoughts of her—how she’ll look when she finally gives in, when she realizes what we could be. All I need is one touch. If I can just touch her once, she’ll be mine forever. That’s all it will take. She won’t be able to resist.

The thought makes my body react instantly. My cock hardens as I imagine it, her beneath me, begging me to never stop. My hand moves down, freeing myself as I keep her scent pressed against my face. It doesn’t take long—I don’t have time for that. It’s quick, rough, and all I can think about is how close I am to finally making her mine.

I groan as I cum, my hips bucking as I press the shorts harder to my face, my tongue darting out to taste the fabric. The thought of her not knowing, of me doing this without her even realizing... it’s intoxicating. Soon. Soon she’ll know exactly who she belongs to.

I get up, still holding her shorts, glancing around the room. My cum drips down my hand, and I move toward the bathroom to clean up. But then, an idea. I grab the shampoo, and stop. A new sick, twisted idea.

I walk to the kitchen, opening the fridge. My eyes scan the contents until they land on what I’m looking for—her yogurt. Every morning, she makes a little snack for herself with yogurt, fruit, and oats. I pop the lid off and stare at it, my heart racing. Am I really going to do this?

Yes. Yes, I am.

My obsession has already gone this far. This... this is just another step. A way to mark her, to make her mine in a way she’ll never understand. My cock twitches at the thought as I wipe the cum from my hand and mix it into the yogurt.

I smile to myself, leaning against the counter. My Little Deer has no idea how close I am. How I’m slowly closing in on her. But when I finally have her, when I claim her, it will be perfect. She’ll resist at first, but in the end? She’ll beg me for more.

A few hours later, I’m parked outside her apartment, watching as she walks in. I can almost hear her thoughts, see the confusion on her face when she notices the heart on her window. I smile. I’m supposed to meet Justin here soon, but first, I want to watch her. I pull out my phone, ready to check the camera I’ve hidden in her bathroom, but then I notice something.

Fuck.

The bottle. I still had the shampoo bottle in the kitchen! Rookie mistake. I must’ve been so caught up in my plan that I brought it out with me and left it in the kitchen.

I unlock the door quietly and slip back inside. Moving quickly but carefully. Grabbing the bottle, I approach the bathroom, holding my breath. She’s in there. I can hear the water sloshing as she moves.

Grasping the handle, I pull it down, and open the door. The door is cracked just enough for me to see her, completely submerged in the tub, her body relaxed, vulnerable.

God, I want to step inside. I want to reach out and touch her, to feel her skin under my fingers. But the bathroom is too small, and she’d see me before I could get close enough. So instead, I crouch down and roll the bottle across the floor.

I don’t stick around to see what happens next. I turn and rush out, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Back in my car, I sit, waiting, and watch the bathroom on the camera. And then I call her.

Hearing her voice on the phone, the fear laced in her words—it’s like a drug. I need it. Six months. Six long months I’ve been planning, scheming, getting closer and closer to her. And soon, so soon, she’ll be mine.

I promise.