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Description
It all began with obsession.

Somehow, his figure would always end up in my line of sight. I began to notice his unique cotton white hair, the way his azure eyes caught the light, how much his pale skin contrasted with mine. He was not very popular with the class, but he was beautiful, nonetheless. There was once, just once, I picked up his scattered papers for him and he smiled at me. I was lost in that smile, mesmerised even. His figure grew in my mind. I began to see him smile, wonder how he looks like when he's angry, sad, happy, petulant, depressed. How many people has he graced with that smile?

Suddenly, simply just seeing him in class was no longer enough.

He lives by himself right behind the school, two lanes away from my house. Everyday after school, he would routinely go to the balcony at three o'clock to prune his mini-garden. At six, he would leave the house to buy take-outs from the cafeteria downstairs. After finishing his food at seven, he would either watch TV or do homework until ten when he'd promptly go to bed. Weekends, he would usually stay at home and use the computer all day. I followed him for four months. Does he even know that I exist?

Sometimes, I wonder if it is my obsession that triggered my desire to possess, or it is your possession of my mind that manifested my obsession?

I caress your silky white mane and you whimper, trembling delightfully on the bed. "Come on now, don't cry. I am here, I am always here", I say. You shrink away as I reach to wipe away your tears. It has been more than three days and still, you are so adorably shy.

As I adjust the bonds on your wrists, you ask me why I keep you here again, so I reply, "You belong here with me. You have always belonged right here with me."

Description
It all began with obsession.

Somehow, his figure would always end up in my line of sight. I began to notice his unique cotton white hair, the way his azure eyes caught the light, how much his pale skin contrasted with mine. He was not very popular with the class, but he was beautiful, nonetheless. There was once, just once, I picked up his scattered papers for him and he smiled at me. I was lost in that smile, mesmerised even. His figure grew in my mind. I began to see him smile, wonder how he looks like when he's angry, sad, happy, petulant, depressed. How many people has he graced with that smile?

Suddenly, simply just seeing him in class was no longer enough.

He lives by himself right behind the school, two lanes away from my house. Everyday after school, he would routinely go to the balcony at three o'clock to prune his mini-garden. At six, he would leave the house to buy take-outs from the cafeteria downstairs. After finishing his food at seven, he would either watch TV or do homework until ten when he'd promptly go to bed. Weekends, he would usually stay at home and use the computer all day. I followed him for four months. Does he even know that I exist?

Sometimes, I wonder if it is my obsession that triggered my desire to possess, or it is your possession of my mind that manifested my obsession?

I caress your silky white mane and you whimper, trembling delightfully on the bed. "Come on now, don't cry. I am here, I am always here", I say. You shrink away as I reach to wipe away your tears. It has been more than three days and still, you are so adorably shy.

As I adjust the bonds on your wrists, you ask me why I keep you here again, so I reply, "You belong here with me. You have always belonged right here with me."