The Bouquet

Chapter 4

Your stalker saw all of this, and he was sure no one could know you better than he could. He owned all of your albums, watched every fan cam, had posters and framed pictures of you decorating his walls, and even swiped some of your stage clothes that one time he saved up enough money to bribe his way into your dressing room. His most prized possession was the chapstick he had swiped from your vanity, knowing that your lips had been pressed against it was enough reason for him to pocket it on his way out when his time ran out.

He could never have enough of you, that much he knew. What he really wanted was to have you as his own, his personal songbird caged in with him. What he would give to have you pressed against him every night, to not have to sneak around your hotel that he paid an outrageous amount of money to get the knowledge of. What would it be like, to have you choose him out of the millions of people at your disposal.

There were millions of people for you, but you were the only one for him.

He could feel his palms sweating the closer he got to you in line. There were only a few more people in front of him blocking his path to you. He had thought about this moment for weeks, thinking of what he was going to say to you to win you over, to maybe be lucky enough for you to write your number on the album instead of your name. God, what would that be like.

His mind was clouded with thoughts of you from the past few weeks, thumbing through his mental catalogue of your photos and videos. All he could ever think about was you and almost nothing else. He had lost friends for you, and if it were necessary he would get rid of everything for a chance to have you.

And there you were, the two of you only separated by a small table that he could easily lunge over if given the chance. You were sending him that beautiful bright smile that made him weak in the knees, he was lucky he was seated or he may have actually fallen. Your smile slipped as you noticed his pale face and shaky hands.

"Are you alright?" You asked in concern, reaching across the table to cradle his much larger hands in your own. He must have gone to heaven because there was no way you would have initiated touch with him. This had to mean something, maybe you really were meant for him. He had sent you countless notes, flowers, and gifts over the years. He was sure he had made his love for you known even though you had never seen his face.

"Perfect." He breathed, squeezing your hands as his dark eyes bore into your own.

Your brows drew together in confusion as you tilted your head to the side. "I'm perfectly fine." He clarified.

You nodded and smiled in understanding, attempting to pull one of your hands free from his tight grip. This was not unfamiliar territory. You pulled one of your charming smiles and fluttered your lashes.

"Can I sign that for you?" You asked, eyes flicking down to the blank album in between the two of you.

"She's - she's flirting with me?" He thought, cheeks flushing as he fumbled with his words only able to dumbly nod and release one of your hands. You signed it quickly with a flourish like you had done before many times. But he was certain he would find something else there than just your signature, after all the two of you were meant to be. Your perfectly manicured nails tapped against the cover of the album a few times in thought before you scribbled a quick design and slid it across the table. He was too distracted by you to even look at what you had done for him, his eyes glazed over in admiration as his tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

"Did you have a question for me?" You asked sweetly.

God, what question didn't he have? If you allowed him too he would stay there forever with you, finding out every single little detail you would give him. He straightened his back, attempting to throw away the shy persona he had given to you. "Would you ever date a fan?"

You seemed taken aback at first, eyes lighting up in surprise as your mouth fell open slightly. He could feel the sudden urge to kiss you as he caught sight of those tantalizingly glossy lips. He leaned his chest against the table, unaware he was moving closer to you. You quickly recovered from the surprise of his question, the seemingly shy boy now exuding confidence. You gave him a gentle laugh and looked down at your joined hands, feigning shyness. You knew all too well how to react to a question like this.

"If they were a fan as cute as you I wouldn't have a choice." You cooed, watching his flushed cheeks burn darker if that were even possible.

His lips parted in an attempt to reply but before the words could leave his mouth a staff member was ushering him away. He had run out of time and barely had the chance to speak to you. His face clearly read as distressed and distraught, how could he be expected to leave you after that? And what could be worse than the fact that you hadn't spared him a glance as he was sent away, your attention already preoccupied by the girl in front of you who was excitedly gushing at their idol.

He stood in the lobby for a while, frozen as he replayed the scene over and over in his head. He had been so close to you, he could remember your scent, the shade of your lipstick, and the beautiful smile you had graced him with. His long fingers fumbled with the album as he remembered the extra time you had taken with him. The light reflected off of his glasses and he held the album close, his eyes darting over it's cover as he spotted your signature accompanied by a carefully drawn heart beneath it.

"She felt it too." He breathed in shock, the tips of his fingers grazing the shape of the heart etched into the cover. His mind was set now, he knew what he had to do.

That was how he found himself in your dressing room, somehow by the grace of god able to sneak in. He had surveyed the entire room, looking at and touching everything he could. He rifled through her makeup drawer, removing and pocketing the gloss that had tempted him on her lips only moments before. He took what he wanted and what he thought wouldn't be missed. And now, all he could do was wait for your return. And wait he would.