Stalkers, murder, and lies. He was coming. I was terrified. I heard the doorknob turn and my heart dropped to my stomach. He was here. He entered my apartment. Casually, like he'd been there a million times before, and maybe he had. He wore black sweats and a hoodie, the hood pulled up over his head so I couldn't see his face. He didn't look nearly as dangerous as he was. But I wasn't fooled. I stayed still on the bed, watching him as he approached me. The only light in the room was the dim lamp on my nightstand. He came closer and crawled onto the bed, sitting on his knees in front of me. He reached out a tentative hand and cupped my cheek. I clenched my eyes shut, unable to look at him. His thumb ran across my lips and I shuddered. He was too close, far too close, but I didn't dare move away. He let go of my cheek and reached forward to pull me into his arms. I resisted at first, but his fingers tightened around my shoulders and I let myself sink into his arms. His hug was strangely familiar, and it almost felt comforting. Almost. He stroke my hair and laid his chin on my head. He rocked me back and forth slowly and just seemed to enjoy holding me. When he released me I scrambled backwards, pressing my back into the headboard. He crawled towards me, slowly, like a predator after its prey, and all I could do was watch in terror. He placed both his arms beside my head, his body hovering over mine. I felt suddenly so small, tiny compared to him even though he wasn't that much bigger than me. He leaned down towards me and I whimpered. He stilled, then gently pressed his lips to my forehead. When he pulled back I pulled my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. For a long time he just stared at me, then he reached out and took my hand in his. He brought my knuckles to his lips and laid a soft kiss on my hand. He carefully got off the bed and backed up towards the door. And then he was gone.