When a Stalker Falls for a Yandere - Chapter 1

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…”

Line after slanting line of scarlet words covered the snow-white sheet of paper.

Carefully, I went over some of them in pen until the thicker strokes formed a heart.

I admired the pretty page and imagined Wei Mian’s expression when he opened it. Unable to resist, I pressed the note to the tip of my nose, closed my eyes, and kissed it hard.

“Wei Mian… God, I like you so much. So, so much…”

On the surveillance feed before me, the young man emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

Water slid down his beautiful face, along his slender, prominent collarbones and sculpted muscles, then disappeared into hidden territory I couldn’t spy on.

Heat crept into my face. I sank deeper into the sofa, tipped my head back amid the frantic clatter of my belt buckle, and moaned,

“Wei Mian… I want you…”

I was so relaxed that I completely failed to notice the man on the screen pressing a hand to his ear and arching one brow in amusement.

He raised his eyes and stared straight into the camera. Something dark churned in his gaze, as if… as if he were watching me pleasure myself to the sight of him through the lens.

That night, I slipped the note into Wei Mian’s mailbox together with a photograph.

In the picture, he was drinking water with only a towel around his waist, his Adam’s apple jutting out and every ridge of his abs sharply defined.

He looked devastatingly good.

I stuck a pink heart sticker over everything below his waist, then wrote beneath it, one deliberate word at a time:

“I don’t like the towel. Baby isn’t allowed to wear one next time.”

I had barely pushed it into the mailbox when Wei Mian’s voice suddenly came from the stairwell.

I was about to hide, but the sound of another young man’s voice stopped me dead.

Wei Mian seemed drunk, leaning half his weight against a man in a suit.

And he was actually letting that man hold him around the waist.

I stared at the hand on him. My body turned cold, while the veins in my head throbbed hot enough to burst.

Inch by inch, my gaze crawled up to Wei Mian’s drunkenly flushed face.

His eyes were narrowed, yet they couldn’t conceal the seductive promise flowing through those amorous peach-blossom eyes.

Hah.

What a shameless slut.

I looked away for one second and he went out seducing men.

I really wanted to fuck…

“Song Zaixi? What are you doing here?”

I froze. Only then did I realize that the man half supporting, half embracing Wei Mian was my older cousin, Song Zhijie—the shou protagonist.

“…Cousin. I live here.”

Song Zhijie frowned but said nothing. He merely guided Wei Mian to the door of his apartment.

He had no idea that jealousy was already burning inside me, a spark on the verge of becoming a wildfire.

I stared at Wei Mian’s profile, while the damp, obsessive confession he made after imprisoning Song Zhijie in the original novel played over and over in my head.

He had said, “Do you know that no matter how many layers you wear, in my mind you’re always naked? Exposed. Laid completely bare.”

“That’s why I can’t stop myself from loving you. No one but you has ever stirred this much desire in me.”

“Under the light of day, only you and I are the same. I know you long for someone to love you with savage devotion, forever and unto death. Now I’m here. Song Zhijie, why won’t you love me?!”

…

I pictured him demanding Song Zhijie’s love again and again, only to be denied.

Then I looked at him in Song Zhijie’s arms.

The sight was intolerable.

My nails bit deep into my palms. When Song Zhijie started searching Wei Mian for his keys, I stepped forward of my own accord.

“Cousin, it’ll be hard to open the door while you’re holding him. Let me.”

I bent down in front of Wei Mian and slid a hand into his trouser pocket.

The heat of his flesh and the fragrance unique to Wei Mian engulfed all my senses.

I took two deep breaths and couldn’t resist lifting my head to look up at his face from below.

Without warning, I met a pair of smiling black eyes.

My hand jerked. When I looked again, Wei Mian’s eyes were plainly half closed with drink, his gaze unfocused.

…It had only been my imagination.

Song Zhijie urged me again. “Did you find them? What’s taking so long?”

“Got them. I’ll open the door.”

I hurriedly gripped the keys and straightened.

But Wei Mian suddenly seemed to lose his balance and pitched into my arms.

I caught him against my chest.

The man I loved was in my embrace, and my heart pounded deafeningly.

Startled, Song Zhijie reached out to steady him.

Wei Mian was too drunk to recognize anyone. He raised his arms and wrapped them around my neck.

Warm breaths fell against my bare skin, one after another.

My face burned. I felt like a thief stealing something right in front of its owner.

Even so, I tightened my arm around Wei Mian’s waist.

My voice trembled uncontrollably with the thrill of it. “Cousin, open the door first. Let’s get him inside.”

Song Zhijie gave him a tug but failed to pull him away. He simply took the keys and opened the door. “He drank too much…”

I bent to pick Wei Mian up.

But he abruptly pressed his lips close to my ear and murmured in an indescribably intimate tone, “Gege, do you love me…?”

His breath ghosted over me, his whisper winding into my ear.

My heart turned to ice.

My hand clamped hard around his waist.

Wei Mian shuddered in pain.

Gloomy and sick with jealousy, I cursed him under my breath. “Slut.”

“Didn’t I tell you that you’re only allowed to love me?”

“If I ever hear you call him gege again, I’ll lock you away, bolt the door, and turn you into my broken doll.”

“The kind I’ll play with until you’re ruined!”