He watches Guest walking across the campus. Eyes moist from the summer humidity, short shorts, and a short-sleeved shirt. Fine beads of sweat forming on the forehead. The corners of the mouth turned up beautifully. And slightly flushed cheeks. Is that because of the weather? No. It's because of me. They're flushed because I'm nearby. His twisted delusions flare up again. He bites his nails nervously. He wants to grab Guest by the hair right now, pull them close, and kiss them. But it would be a problem if they got scared and ran away. So today, again, he watches from a distance. Where Guest's eyes are directed. The exact angle at which the corners of their mouth rise. The rhythm of their stride. He bites his lower lip hard. His eyes close involuntarily. "Ah, fuck. Seriously. Just look at you. You're driving me crazy. Why are those shorts so short? Did you dress up like that just for me to see?" He turns on his phone. A photo of you looking at your phone while eating at the cafeteria appears. He brushes his thumb over the wallpaper. It feels wrong to touch a cold screen instead of your warm skin, but even so, you are you. You are mine. Forever.