9 | “ ᴏʙsᴇssᴇᴅ.”
-------------------

|| ᴊᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ's ᴘᴏᴠ ||

Love? The word tasted foreign, bitter even. It wasn't for me-never had been, never would be. My life was a perfectly crafted empire, each piece meticulously placed, every variable accounted for. I thrived in control, in the knowledge that nothing and no one could touch me. Emotions were for the weak, and love was the ultimate betrayal of self-control.

But then Yn happened.

She wasn't a person; she was a disturbance, an anomaly in the equation I had spent years perfecting. She didn't fit. She wasn't supposed to. And yet, she slipped into my life like a shadow creeping in at dusk-unnoticed until it was too late to stop it.

Her presence wasn't welcome, but it was impossible to ignore. The softness in her voice grated against my nerves, a melody I couldn't tune out no matter how hard I tried. She moved through my world like she belonged, leaving imprints I couldn't erase no matter how much I wanted to.

It wasn't love. It couldn't be. Love was weakness, and I wasn't weak.

But obsession? That was different. Obsession was power. Obsession was control. And that's what she became-an obsession I couldn't shake, a fire that burned too brightly for me to extinguish.

She was everywhere, her voice echoing in my mind, her face haunting my dreams. I hated how much space she occupied in my thoughts, hated how her laugh lingered in the quiet moments, how her scent clung to my skin long after she was gone.

I hated her for making me feel alive.

Her existence unraveled me, and I despised how much I craved it. She wasn't just under my skin; she was in my veins, a toxin I couldn't purge. I watched her more than I should have, memorized every detail-the way her lips curved when she smiled, the slight tilt of her head when she was lost in thought.

She didn't know, couldn't know, how much of her I had taken.

Every step she took, I was there, watching, calculating. It wasn't enough to just see her; I needed to own her, to carve her into my world so deeply that she could never leave. She had become a part of me without her permission, and I didn't care if it was right or wrong.

Love wasn't what I felt. Love didn't keep you awake at night, pacing like a caged animal. Love didn't consume your every waking thought, didn't make you want to break and fix someone at the same time. No, this was darker, sharper.

It wasn't love. It was possession.

She didn't see me the way I saw her, and that made it worse. Her kindness, her softness-it wasn't meant for someone like me. But I didn't care. I couldn't. I didn't need her to love me back; I just needed her to be mine.

She made me question things I had sworn off, but it didn't matter. I wasn't falling for her. I was claiming her, piece by fragile piece, until there was nothing left of her that wasn't already mine.

She would hate me if she knew. And still, I couldn't stop.

Because this wasn't love. This was obsession. And I was too far gone to turn back.

Whether this was love or obsession, I wasn't sure. But whatever it was, it was hers. And somehow, that didn't feel like a loss-it felt like the beginning of something I didn't even know I needed.

Right now, my mind was buried in the endless pile of papers spread across my desk. The soft glow of the desk lamp illuminated the pages, but it did little to chase away the exhaustion that clung to me. Office work had become my constant companion, demanding every ounce of my time and energy. It wasn't new-this routine of sleepless nights, short naps, and then diving back into the chaos.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I leaned back in my chair. The numbers and reports in front of me blurred together, but I couldn't afford to stop. This was my life-a cycle of relentless work and responsibilities, with little room for anything else. Or at least, that's how it used to be.

Now, Yn was here.

She was asleep in my room, her presence a quiet reminder of how much had changed.

The thought of her brought an uninvited softness to my chest, a feeling I wasn't sure I wanted to embrace. She had a way of making me question things, of making me feel things I had long buried beneath the weight of my work.

I glanced at the clock-it was late, far too late for me to still be sitting here. But going back to the room, to her, felt like stepping into a world I wasn't sure I deserved.

She looked so peaceful when she slept, as if all the chaos in my life couldn't touch her. And yet, here she was, in the middle of my storm, grounding me in ways I couldn't explain.

Shaking my head, I forced my focus back to the papers in front of me. There was still so much to do, so many responsibilities to shoulder. But in the back of my mind, she lingered-a quiet, persistent distraction that made the long nights a little less lonely.

The knock on the door was hesitant, almost unsure, but it was enough to pull my attention away from the papers in front of me. I looked up, and there she was-Yn.

Her hair was a mess, her eyes hazy and unfocused, as if she wasn't entirely sure why she was standing there. She shifted uncomfortably, clutching the edge of the oversized shirt she wore.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a mix of confusion and hesitation. She didn't look like she remembered how she'd gotten here, her brows furrowing as she glanced around the room, her lips parting like she wanted to ask but didn't dare to.

Yes, you are. But I'd let you. Always.

“No,” I said, keeping my tone even, though my chest burned with the effort it took to stay calm. “You're fine.”

She took a tentative step into the room, her arms wrapping around herself, like she was trying to piece together the reason for her presence here. “Why... am I here?” she finally asked, her voice small, the confusion clear in her expression.

I leaned back in my chair, watching her closely. “You don't remember?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. I could still picture her earlier that night, her body swaying unsteadily on the dance floor, her laughter spilling out over the thumping music, too drunk to notice the wolves circling her.

She doesn't even remember calling me.

“You were at the club,” I said, my voice calm but edged with something darker. “You were drunk and you called me. I couldn't leave you there.”

Couldn't let anyone else touch you, take you, or even look at you the way they were.

Her eyes darted to the floor, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I... I didn't mean for you to have to-”

“Don't,” I cut her off, sharper than I intended. Her gaze snapped back to mine, startled, and I softened my tone just enough. “It doesn't matter now. You're here, and you're safe.”

She blinked at me, still looking unsure, as if she couldn't decide whether to stay or leave. But she didn't realize she didn't have a choice. Not really. Not anymore.

“Sit,” I said, motioning to the chair across from me. She hesitated, but eventually, she obeyed, lowering herself slowly as if unsure of her place.

I watched her every move, the way her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her shirt, the way her lips pressed together in thought. She didn't know why she was here, but I did.

She was here because she was mine. Even if she didn't realize it yet.

“Isn't this the information about the new collaborator?” she asked, her eyes flickering between the paper in my hand and my face, her expression cautious yet curious.

I paused, my gaze locking with hers for a moment longer than necessary before giving a curt nod.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice steady, though my irritation was thinly veiled. “This is the information about him. I wanted to clear all backgrounds before deciding if it's a good idea to collaborate or not.”

She tilted her head slightly, her brows furrowing as if she was processing my words. Her curiosity was endearing, though it was also dangerous. She had no idea the depths I went to when it came to decisions like these-or the real reasons I needed to know every detail about anyone who entered my world.

I leaned back in my chair, tapping the paper lightly against the desk. I stared at her whose gaze was fixed at the papers taking in all the details with her still sleepy orbs.

She has no idea how much she affects me, does she?  I've caught this attachment and obsession with her which is a never ending story. Just a few months and you're going to be mine, Angel. Just mine.

-----------------------------
-ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ-

Hope you enjoyed it!

Nini<3