My neat whiskey sloshed as the glass clinked down in front of me, the bartender stepped away to another patron without another word. My eyes followed him as I tossed back the liquid until it's presence was lost from the glass and gained in my gut. My eyes followed him to see him leaning over the counter looking at You. Well, well, well. Who are You? Blonde hair grazed thin shoulders, green eyes that seemed as if they'd burrow a hole into any soul until they found their way into the heart and build a home inside their host's chest, plump pink lips that caressed each word that passed them, strong jaw that strengthened the voice that spilled out like song. You're quite queer, I'd thought I'd like to talk to You. ... WARNING: This story contains mature content that may disturbing for some readers. It contains depictions of heavy stalking, nonconsensual voyuerism, and a vehicular accident.