Ethan never considered himself obsessive. He wasn’t the kind of guy who fixated on things—at least, not outside of his work. But Sienna was different. She had seeped into his mind like ink into paper, staining every thought, every moment of quiet reflection.He didn’t realize when it started—this… fascination. Maybe it was the way she seemed to drift in and out of his life on a whim, making him feel like she belonged there only to disappear again, leaving an emptiness behind. Maybe it was how she kept him at a maddening distance, always teasing, always deflecting, never truly letting him in. Or maybe it was just her, the way she moved, the way she laughed, the way her eyes carried secrets she refused to share.And he wanted to know them. All of them.Ethan found himself watching her more than he should have. It wasn’t intentional at first—just small things. He noticed when she left in the evening and when she returned, sometimes in the early hours of the morning, hair tousled, a dazed
Ethan had always been good at drawing. It was something he did when the world felt too chaotic, when his mind refused to settle. The scratch of pencil against paper was comforting, a way to make sense of things that words couldn't. And now, his sketchbook was filled with nothing but her.Sienna.He hadn’t meant for it to happen. It started as absentminded doodles in the margins of his notes, the curve of a shoulder here, the arch of a back there. But before he knew it, his pages were consumed by her—her eyes, her smirk, the way she twisted her hair around her fingers when she was deep in thought.She had become his obsession, one he couldn’t shake, no matter how much he told himself he needed to stop.Tonight, Ethan sat at his small wooden desk, the only light in his apartment coming from the flickering desk lamp. His fingers were smudged with graphite as he dragged his pencil across the page, carefully tracing the lines of her face. He had drawn her dozens of times, but each time, it
Ethan sat in the dimly lit café across from his best friend, David, nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee. The familiar hum of chatter and the occasional clinking of silverware filled the air, but Ethan was only half-aware of his surroundings. His mind was elsewhere—on Sienna, on her touch, on the way her lips had brushed against his cheek the night before.David, however, had no such distractions. He sat back in the booth, arms crossed, watching Ethan with a look of concern that bordered on exasperation.“You look like shit, man,” David finally said, breaking the silence. “Have you even slept?”Ethan blinked, snapping back to reality. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Yeah. I mean, sort of.”David scoffed. “That’s a no.” He leaned forward, his voice lowering. “Is this about her?”Ethan frowned. “Who?”David shot him a knowing look. “Don’t play dumb. The neighbor. The girl you’re practically obsessed with.”Ethan tensed. “I’m not obsessed.”David let out a dry laugh. “Right. You
Ethan sat at his desk, pretending to read, but the words blurred together on the page. His eyes kept drifting to the window, where he had positioned himself just right—able to catch glimpses of Sienna’s apartment door through the small gap in his curtains. It had become a habit, an obsession, a dangerous addiction he couldn’t shake.Tonight, something was different.A sleek black car pulled up to the building. Not the usual rideshare or old beat-up taxis he sometimes saw dropping off visitors. This one was expensive—the kind of luxury sedan only a certain type of man drove. The doors opened with a muted click, and out stepped a man who looked like he belonged to another world.The stranger adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit, the silver of his expensive watch catching the dim glow of the streetlights. His polished shoes tapped against the pavement with purpose as he strode toward the entrance. Everything about him oozed wealth, confidence, and the kind of privilege Ethan had never
Ethan’s heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he thought it might give him away. The dim glow of his apartment barely illuminated the small space, but he didn’t need light—his focus was solely on the sliver of the outside world he could see through the peephole. His breathing was uneven, his palms damp as he hovered, torn between reason and impulse.He shouldn’t be doing this.But he couldn’t stop.Sienna’s apartment door was slightly ajar, the soft amber glow from inside spilling into the hallway. The rich man—her guest—stood in the doorway, his back partially turned to Ethan’s line of sight. He was just as polished as before, his suit crisp, his posture exuding power and ease. He adjusted the cuff of his expensive watch, exuding the effortless charm of someone who belonged in a world Ethan could never touch.Then she appeared.Sienna leaned lazily against the doorframe, her robe tied loosely around her waist, exposing the long, smooth curve of her leg. Her dark hair was slightly
Ethan tried to convince himself that what he had seen meant nothing. That it wasn’t his business. That Sienna was just another neighbor—nothing more, nothing less. But no matter how much he willed himself to forget, the images wouldn’t leave him.Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her standing in the doorway, bathed in warm light, her robe slipping just enough to reveal the curve of her thigh. He heard the soft murmur of her voice, the teasing lilt of her laughter, the way she looked straight at his door, as if daring him to keep watching.And then the worst part—the men.Different men. Different nights.It became a cycle, an agonizing routine he couldn’t escape.At first, he told himself he wasn’t paying attention. That the sounds of footsteps outside his door were just part of the normal rhythm of apartment life. But soon, it became impossible to ignore. He started noticing the pattern—the way they came late at night, their shoes expensive, their presence confident. Some of them
Ethan stared at the ceiling, his body stiff as he lay on the mattress, the sheets tangled around his legs. The air in his apartment felt heavy, thick with an invisible weight that pressed against his chest. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the restless storm inside his head, but the moment he did, her face surfaced.Sienna.The way she had smirked at him just before shutting her door. The way her lips had formed that silent shhh, as if inviting him to keep watching. To keep obsessing.His eyes snapped open. The faint glow of the city seeped through his blinds, casting long shadows along the walls. He reached for his phone, checking the time. 3:42 AM. For the third night in a row, he hadn’t managed to get a single hour of proper sleep.He turned onto his side, willing his brain to shut down, but his ears remained hyper-focused, waiting for the inevitable.And then—A muffled voice.A soft giggle.The telltale creak of Sienna’s door opening and closing.Ethan’s pulse drummed in hi
Ethan barely had time to react before he heard the knock again—soft, teasing, deliberate. His heart lurched as he hesitated, staring at the door as if it had come alive.Then, her voice, smooth and sultry. “Ethan, you home?”He swallowed hard, his throat dry. He wasn’t expecting this—wasn’t ready for it. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to ignore her, to let her think he was asleep or busy. But before he could second-guess himself, his hand was already turning the knob.The door swung open, and there she was.Sienna leaned against the frame, her golden-brown hair tousled, cascading over her bare shoulders. She wore a silky black robe, loosely tied at her waist, revealing hints of bare skin beneath. The dim hallway lighting cast a soft glow on her smooth, flawless complexion. Her lips curled in that familiar, knowing smirk—the one that made his chest tighten.
Ethan knew he should stop. He knew he should turn away, shut his door, and drown himself in the distractions of his books, his sketches—anything but this. But he didn’t. It started with a sound—low murmurs, a breathy laugh—drifting through the paper-thin walls. He recognized her voice instantly, but it was different tonight. It wasn’t the teasing, confident tone she usually used with him. It was softer, sultrier. His heart pounded as he stood frozen by his door, staring at the thin line of golden light spilling from Sienna’s slightly open doorway. He shouldn’t look. Don’t look, Ethan. But something about the way the door wasn’t completely shut, the way the soft sounds of movement filtered through, made it impossible for him to move away. He took a step closer. His pulse hammered in his ears as he peered through the narrow gap. Th
Ethan tried to go about his day as if nothing had happened, but Sienna's words lingered like an echo in his mind. Emotions make people weak, Ethan. You should learn that before it gets you hurt. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? That one moment of vulnerability, one night of muffled sobs behind thin walls, could shake him so much? But it did. It bothered him that she had dismissed it so easily, as if her pain was nothing more than a passing inconvenience. By the time evening rolled around, he had exhausted himself with overthinking. His laptop lay open on the desk, untouched for hours, a blank document staring back at him. He had barely eaten. He had barely done anything. His thoughts kept circling back to her. Finally, he gave up. He needed a break. Maybe some fresh air. Maybe he just needed to see her, even if it was from a distance. Stepping out of his ap
Ethan barely slept that night. The sound of Sienna crying had unsettled him in a way he couldn’t quite shake. It had been soft at first—muffled, broken sobs barely slipping through the thin walls. But then they’d become harsher, raw, as if something deep inside her had shattered. He had sat up in bed, staring at the wall that separated them, his chest aching.He wanted to knock on her door. To do something. But what right did he have? She had brushed off his confession like it was nothing. She had told him to go home, and yet here he was, unable to think of anything else but her pain.By morning, he was exhausted but determined. He couldn’t just pretend he hadn’t heard anything. As soon as he heard movement from her apartment, he was out the door.Sienna was locking her door when he stepped into the hallway. She was dressed as immaculately as ever—tight jeans, a cropped black top, her hair pulled into
Ethan had barely slept. His mind kept replaying their conversation over and over again. Sienna’s laughter, the sharp bite of her words, the way she had dismissed his feelings like they were nothing. He told himself he wouldn’t think about it anymore, that it was better this way. He had no place in her world, and she had made that clear.And yet, late into the night, just as the city had settled into quiet murmurs of distant sirens and rustling winds, something pulled him from the haze of his restless thoughts.Soft, muffled sobs.At first, he thought he was imagining it. Sienna was not the type to cry—at least, not in front of anyone. But as he sat up in bed, straining to listen, the sound became clearer. It wasn’t the distant, passion-laced moans he had become used to hearing through the thin walls. No, this was raw, broken.Sienna was crying.Ethan’s chest tight
Ethan had spent the entire day trying to convince himself that he shouldn’t say anything. That it was better to keep his feelings locked away where they couldn’t be exposed and torn apart. But his resolve shattered the moment he saw her again.Sienna was outside her apartment, leaning against the railing of the hallway balcony, smoking a cigarette. The soft glow of the city lights reflected off her skin, making her look almost ethereal. He didn’t know if it was the way she exhaled the smoke so slowly, or the way the night breeze toyed with the loose strands of her hair, but she looked untouchable. Untouchable, yet standing right there.He didn’t think—he just walked up to her.She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, an amused smirk playing at her lips. “So, you’re back to speaking to me now?”Ethan swallowed, his hands clenched at his sides. “I need to tell you something.”
Ethan barely had time to process the way Sienna had looked at him before she shut the door in his face. He told himself to let it go. To walk away and forget the way her skin had felt beneath his fingers.But forgetting wasn’t an option.The next morning, he left his apartment earlier than usual, hoping to avoid her again. But luck wasn’t on his side. As soon as he stepped into the hallway, she was already there—leaning against her doorframe, arms crossed, eyes sharp and unreadable.“So, we’re doing this now?” she asked, tilting her head. “Silent treatment? Avoidance? Like I’m some kind of disease?”Ethan stopped mid-step, his pulse quickening. He hadn’t expected her to be so direct. “That’s not what I’m doing.”Sienna scoffed. “Oh really? Because you’ve been acting like I don’t exist. And newsflash, nerd—I do.”He clenched his jaw. “I’ve just b
Ethan tried to stay away.For three days, he avoided the hallway, changed his schedule to leave his apartment when he knew she wouldn’t be around, and kept his eyes glued to his laptop screen even when his thoughts drifted elsewhere. It was the only way to get some control back—some sense of normalcy after what had happened between them.But it wasn’t working.The more he ignored her, the more she occupied his mind. Every shadow moving past his door made his pulse spike. Every time he heard laughter from her apartment, something inside him twisted. He told himself it was for the best, that he had to put some distance between them.But distance was a lie. Because even if he wasn’t near her, she was inside him, running through his veins like an addiction he couldn’t shake.On the fourth day, Ethan returned from work later than usual, exhausted but res
Ethan sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, fingers tangled in his hair. His mind was a battlefield, a raging war between desire and self-doubt. No matter how much he told himself to stay away, to not get pulled deeper into Sienna’s orbit, he couldn’t fight it.She was everywhere.Every thought. Every breath. Every dream.Her words echoed in his head—"You’re too innocent for my world." He gritted his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. What did she mean by that? Was she mocking him? Protecting him? Or was it just another way to keep him at a distance while she entertained other men?A sharp pang of jealousy shot through his chest. He hated that feeling. He had no right to it, yet it consumed him, growing like a wildfire every time he heard the faint creak of her door or the muffled voices that followed.He stood abruptly, pacing his small apa
Ethan sat rigid on Sienna’s couch, his fingers gripping the empty glass in his lap as he tried to steady his breath. The sting of her teasing still clung to him, burning beneath his skin.She stretched out beside him, draping herself lazily over the cushions, one leg crossing over the other. The hem of her dress rode up slightly, revealing more of her smooth thigh. It was deliberate—everything about her was deliberate.He should have seen it coming.Sienna let out a small sigh, her fingers tracing absentminded patterns on the fabric of the couch. “You’re sweet, Ethan,” she murmured, almost as if she were talking to herself. Then, her gaze slid to him, sharp and assessing. “Too sweet.”He forced himself to look at her, his jaw clenched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”She smirked, amused by his sudden defensiveness. “It means you don’t belong here,” she said simply