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Other than the lackluster space and flooring, the decor gives the apartment a cozy yet lively feel. Soft pastels mix with vibrant splashes of color. Several paintings line the walls of abstract shapes that look more like a drug-induced vision than any defined image. Plants are tucked away in various spots. A large fern in the corner, a few small cacti litter the counters in the kitchen and windowsill, some kind of dangly vine trails from a shelf on the far wall next to several picture frames and small figurines.
Striding farther inside, I look closely at the photographs on the shelves lining the wall. Pictures of Paige in various stages of her life. Her as a teenager giggling with two other girls, Paige in a graduation gown with an older woman who looks to be in her late sixties, a more recent photo that looks to be only a few years old of her nuzzling a small kitten with her eyes closed. I look from picture to picture and try to piece together more of her life. She appears to really care for others, so many smiling faces scattered around, but I haven’t seen her with any of the others in the photos in the weeks I’ve been stalking her. It’s possible she just hasn’t met up with any of her friends in the photos, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it than that.
Turning from the wall, I make my way into her bathroom and start rummaging through the small cabinet below the sink and the hidden cupboard behind the mirror. Nothing untoward coming up, just normal everyday items. Tampons, cleaning supplies, toilet paper, extra shampoo and body wash. Staring at the shampoo, I debate taking it. I need something of her and the scent may be enough to satiate some of the desire inside, at least for a little while.
Giving in to the urge, I snatch one of the extra bottles and rearrange the other items so it’s presence isn’t missing. It’s small enough I can slip it into my pocket without too much of an obvious bulge. Glancing around the room one last time I take in the shower curtain and paintings, similar colors to the living room. The curtain, however, is covered in various water creatures. Turtles, whales, dolphins, fish and even a few octopus and squids fill in the spaces around each other. It’s a little busy but, next to the abstract decor throughout the rest of the bathroom, fits in nicely.
Lastly, I make my way into her bedroom. Taking a deep breath, I stand still for a moment, relishing in the scent of her. My cock twitches and I have to adjust myself to relieve some of the uncomfortable pressure. I can already tell the shampoo is not going to be enough.
I need more.
Looking at the space, I observe her queen bed made up with a floral patterned bedspread. Next to the bed are two nightstands, one on either side, both with small lamps. The one on the left is bare other than the lamp and a small coaster. However, the nightstand on the right side of the bed has several books stacked on each other, a small glasses case, a circular phone charger & an empty mug with a used teabag sitting inside. She must sleep on the right side of her bed. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. She’s left open the left side for me, as if she knows that it’s my side.
Groaning, I run a hand down my face.
Of course she hasn’t left it for me. Why would she?
Now feeling an irritating amount of self pity, I make my way over to her dresser sitting across the room from her bed. Because of the small space, it only takes a few steps before I’m able to start pulling open drawers, taking in the assortment of underwear, bras, socks and pajamas strewn throughout.
After a quick internal debate, I scoop up a couple pairs of panties. Bringing them to my nose, I inhale. They have a hint of her smell mixed with the laundry detergent she uses, but it's not quite enough.
I need more of her smell.
I notice a laundry hamper tucked in between the closet and dresser and quickly snatch a pair of panties sitting on top. This time when I sniff the underwear, I can’t stop the guttural groan that escapes my throat.
This is what I needed.
Pure, unclean, unadulteratedher.
Tossing the unused pairs back into the drawers, I tuck my find into my other pocket and take one more quick peruse of her space before heading back out of the room.
I desperately want to leave her something to remind her of me. It’s been too long since our brief encounter at the store and I want her to remember who I am. But, more importantly, I want her to know whosheis.
Because there is no denying it now. She is mine. Even if she doesn’t know it yet.
A few minutes later I make my way out of the apartment and back to my car, smiling to myself as I climb in and start to head home.
Chapter 6
Paige
I know I’ve had too much to drink but that doesn’t stop me from tossing back another shot. Originally, the plan was to just hang out, drink some wine and eat some greasy pizza while watching old movies on the PS4 Taylor’s boyfriend has at their place.
Everything was going great until I got a notification on my phone.
When I glanced down, I almost swiped away the message but caught sight of the username listed.
GetSethed
I tried to ignore it, I really did. I had forgotten that I set up for all my socials to notify me with updates about Seth when we split. The decision was made while wallowing in self-pity and drowning in a bottle of rum. Now I’m paying the price.
Lesson learned, never social and drink while depressed, it doesn’t end well.
I hold up my hand to the bartender and gesture to my glass, silently requesting another round. She nods my way and comes back to pour more tequila and sets a lime wedge next to my growing pile. I thank her with an incline of my head. Staring at the alcohol sitting in front of me, my hand reaches for my phone and opens up to the post for the hundredth time since getting the alert.
Glaring at the screen, I blink away the tears that form in my eyes, threatening to fall. The picture of my ex-best friend glares back at me. I can feel the pain wash over me again.
How did I never notice?
