he's your stalker...

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I hate to admit it, I really do, but I'm currently on the phone to my stalker.

After many police station visits and after even more times of telling this stranger to leave me alone, I came to a conclusion.

He's not actually a threat to me. The most he knows is where I live. Which I know is so dangerous, but he's never actually shown up.

He says that he only watches me from after - looks after me... and maybe I'm stupid, but I believe him.

"I'm a good cook, y'know." I say to him, knowing that he's watching me cook my pasta.

"And you look good doing it too." He says and I roll my eyes when I can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Pastas my favourite." I say, ignoring his flirts.

"Oh, I know." He says. Of course he knows.

"You should come join me." I say for the 3rd time this week.

Whenever I cook, I always set up two plates and he always says how he wishes he could be here with me.

Which is what I'm doing now, grabbing two plates and setting up two pairs of cutlery.

"Baby. You do this every night."

"Come eat." I say, sitting down on the table and making my plate and setting my phone on the table on speakerphone.

"Don't do that, Y/n. You know I'll feel bad." He says when I don't start eating, waiting for him.

I do want him to come. I want to meet him. We've talked every night for ages but I've never been able to put a face to that sexy voice.

"Are we forgetting that your the one that never comes?" I say, faking a little anger and sadness.

I know that one thing he cares about is my feelings and if he sees me upset, I hoooope he will come.

I sigh when he hangs up, starting to eat. Alone.

But suddenly, I squeal in surprise and fear when I feel a kiss on my head from behind.

"You came?" I say, raising my eyebrows when I see his face.

So handsome.

Sharp jawline and features, dark and curly hair, dark brown eyes and soft pink lips.

"You're even prettier in real life." He says, sitting across from me with a smirk as if it's the most normal thing ever.

I blush, suddenly going quiet. I'm not normally shy, but I didn't think he woukd actually come.

Mattheo doesn't eat, but he watches me and starts the conversation.

It's such a relief when I genuinely feel the conversation just flow, and we share deep conversations, but also genuine laughs.

"Wait, I got something for us." I say, getting up.

I go to one of the cabinets that I haven't opened in ages, trying to reach some wine.

I'm not a drinker, but this is quite the occasion to pop open a bottle.

"I can't reach. C'mere." I say, smiling my sweetest smile at... I don't even know his name.

He comes up behind me, towering over me and not hesitating to wrap and arm sround my waist.

"What am I grabbing?"

"The wine." I say, smirking up at him.

"But you're not too much of a drinker." He says, knowing me too well. But he grabs the bottle anyway.

"I know. But I'm in the mood." I say, blushing when I realize how that sounded a little sexual.

"Not like that." I say, quickly taking the bottle from him and placing it on the table.

"Well I'm always in the mood for that." Mr. I dont know his name says and I blush.

I turn around to grab the wine glasses, but he's already doing it.

"How did you know I keep the wine glasses there?" I say, hands on my hips.

He walks past me to get to the table, kissing my forehead. "You ask too many questions, baby."

I chuckle, pouring myself a glass and my face screws up as I take a sip. He watches.

"I really am not a drinker. But it's sweet." I say. "Have some."

I get up and pour him a glass standing, next to him to hand it to him. It's an innocent move, right?

But he pats his lap and moves back, still sitting down. I blink, staring at his crotch as he indicates for me to sit on his lap.

I gulp. "Why are you scared?" He whispers.

"I'm not scared." I say, sitting down on his lap and feeling his arm quickly snake around my waist.

I take a few more sips of my wine, but quickly forget about the drink when he unexpectedly smashes his lips onto mine.

I whimoer in surprise, feeling his large hand cup my cheek as we make out.

I readjust myself on his lap, straddling him now and he groans, slowly pulling away.

"Fuck. Fuck, Y/n. I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry. You've drank an-

"I'm sober. I want this."

"Not now, okay? I'm sorry."

I sigh, but nod and rest my head on his shoulder.

-

The next day

I wake up, unfortunately with no one by my side.

I stretch, getting up and checking my phone. As soon as I do so, he calls me.

"Hey." I say, yawning.

"You sleep okay?" He says and I look around for him, knowing he's watching me.

But I can never find him.

"I slept fine." I say, getting up and going to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

We stay on the phone for hours, but every word seems different and more intimate now.

That kiss. His hands on my body.

"What's your name?"

He chuckles at the other end of the line.

"You can't know that sweetbeart. How do I know you're not going to go straight to the police?"

"I promise I won't."

He hangs up and I sigh.

But as soon as he does so, I see my bedroom door open.

"You promise, baby?" He says, walking over to my bed and sitting down.

My face breaks out into a huge grin and I walk up to him, standing between his legs and his hands go to my hips.

"What's your name?" I ask again.

He doesn't answer, only pulling me closer toward him and smashing his lips onto mine.

-

I clench onto the bedsheets as we both get lost in eachother.

"Mattheo. Mattheo riddle, baby. That's my name. Now I'm gonna make you scream it."

And he does.

-

Maybe I'm in love with my stalker.

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