Call me a stalker or whatever you want, I don't care. Despite the moral qualms that nagged at the back of my mind, I found myself unable to resist the urge to delve deeper into Jasmine's life. As I scrutinized the piece of paper before me, its surface adorned with an array of meticulously documented details about her, I couldn't help but feel a sense of both guilt and exhilaration coursing through me.

Her full name, age, measurements, and even her past relationships were all laid bare before me, forming a comprehensive dossier of information that offered tantalizing insights into her enigmatic persona. Each entry was a breadcrumb leading me further down the rabbit hole of her life, and I couldn't deny the thrill of discovery that pulsed through my veins with each revelation.

Yet, even as I pored over the intimate details of Jasmine's existence, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I was crossing a line—a line that separated innocent curiosity from invasive intrusion. But in that moment, consumed by a potent cocktail of fascination and desire, I pushed aside my reservations and delved deeper into the labyrinth of her secrets, eager to uncover the truth hidden within.

I made a note of the information:

Jasmine Lim, 30 years old, measurements S-M with a preference for baggy clothing, and a body count of 1, involving only Taehyung.

As I stared at the words on the paper, a peculiar thought crossed my mind—what about her breast size?

Instantly, I recoiled at the intrusive nature of my own thoughts.

What was I thinking? Was I really stooping so low as to obsess over such trivial details? Guilt gnawed at my conscience as I realized the extent to which I had allowed my curiosity to lead me astray. This wasn't who I was supposed to be. I was a writer, a creator of worlds and characters, not a nosy voyeur invading someone's privacy. With a shake of my head, I pushed the unsettling thoughts aside and resolved to focus on more meaningful pursuits.

But I didn't mind. I looked out of my window, my anger simmering beneath the surface as I watched her dancing with Taehyung. The sight ignited a fierce jealousy within me, a sense of betrayal mingled with resentment as I observed them together. How could she dance so carelessly with him, knowing the pain it caused me? I clenched my fists, struggling to contain the surge of emotion threatening to overwhelm me. Despite my attempts to brush it off, the image of them twirling together haunted me, fueling the flames of my indignation and feeding my growing obsession with Jasmine.

It wasn't her fault. She didn't know about the feelings brewing inside me, the tangled web of emotions that had ensnared my heart. No, it wasn't love—it was obsession. A relentless, consuming obsession that gnawed at my insides, driving me to desperate lengths in my pursuit of her. I couldn't shake the image of her dancing with Taehyung, couldn't erase the burning jealousy that consumed me at the sight of them together. With a heavy heart, I admitted to myself the truth—I was obsessed with her, and there was no turning back.

My anger issues escalated when I witnessed them kissing, Taehyung's rough demeanor unsettling me deeply. The sight of their intimate embrace ignited a firestorm of fury within me, overwhelming my senses and clouding my judgment. How could he treat her so roughly, so carelessly, when she deserved nothing but tenderness and respect? The rage bubbled within me, threatening to boil over as I struggled to contain the violent impulses surging through my veins. With clenched fists and gritted teeth, I watched helplessly as my jealousy and anger consumed me, driving me to the brink of madness.

Oh, no. They're making sex in front of my salad.

Closing my curtains abruptly, I sought refuge from the painful spectacle unfolding before me. The fabric shielded me from the prying eyes of their intimacy, cocooning me in a shroud of darkness that offered temporary respite from the tormenting images etched in my mind. With each swift tug of the fabric, I willed myself to banish the haunting memories of their passion, to quell the raging storm of emotions threatening to engulf me. Yet, even as I shut out the world beyond my window, I knew that their fervent embrace would continue to linger in the recesses of my consciousness, haunting me with its undeniable presence.

I reviewed my notes and discovered that Jasmine had only moved in last year. That meant I had begun secretly observing her around that time.

I found myself once again poring over the details, meticulously scanning each line as if searching for answers to questions I dared not voice. How did I come by this information? It was a question I often asked myself, though the answer remained elusive. As a writer, I prided myself on my ability to uncover the truth, to delve into the depths of human experience and emerge with stories that resonated with authenticity. But this... this was different. This was an invasion of privacy, a violation of trust that left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Yet, despite my reservations, I couldn't deny the thrill that surged through me as I pieced together the puzzle of Jasmine's life. Each tidbit of information, each fragment of her past, painted a picture of a woman haunted by demons, yet resilient in the face of adversity. It was a story begging to be told, a narrative waiting to unfold within the pages of my next novel.

But even as I reveled in the thrill of discovery, a nagging sense of guilt gnawed at the edges of my conscience. Was it right to pry into someone's private affairs, to dissect their life with the cold precision of a surgeon's scalpel? I wrestled with these questions, grappling with the moral implications of my actions even as I continued to delve deeper into the secrets that lay hidden within Jasmine's past.

In the end, I found no easy answers, no clear-cut resolution to the moral quandary that plagued me. All I knew was that I was a writer, driven by an insatiable curiosity and a relentless desire to uncover the truth. And as long as Jasmine's story remained shrouded in mystery, I would stop at nothing to uncover the secrets that lay hidden beneath the surface.

🌷🌷🌷

The next day, as the sun began its ascent into the sky, casting a warm glow over the city streets, I laced up my running shoes and stepped out into the crisp morning air. Jogging had become a routine for me, a way to clear my mind and invigorate my body before facing the challenges of the day ahead. Little did I know that this morning would be different, that fate had something unexpected in store for me.

As I rounded a familiar corner, my eyes scanned the path ahead, taking in the sights and sounds of the waking city. And then, like a vision in pink, I saw her. Jasmine, clad in a vibrant windbreaker that seemed to shimmer in the morning light, was jogging gracefully along the sidewalk, her feet pounding out a steady rhythm on the pavement.

For a moment, I stopped in my tracks, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of her. She looked so alive, so radiant, her hair dancing in the breeze as she moved with effortless grace. Without thinking, I quickened my pace, eager to catch up to her and bask in her presence.

As I drew nearer, I could feel my pulse quickening, my breath coming in short gasps as adrenaline surged through my veins. And then, before I knew it, I was running alongside her, matching her stride for stride as we moved in perfect harmony.

For a moment, we ran in silence, the only sound the rhythmic pounding of our footsteps on the pavement. And then, as if sensing my presence, Jasmine turned to me with a smile that lit up her face like the morning sun.

"Good morning," she said, her voice soft and melodic. "I didn't expect to see you here."

I returned her smile, feeling a warmth spread through my chest at the sound of her voice. "Good morning," I replied, my words coming out in a breathless whisper. "I didn't expect to see you either."

And as we continued our run together, side by side, I couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration coursing through my veins. Perhaps this chance encounter was a sign, a sign that fate had brought us together for a reason. Whatever the reason, I knew one thing for certain: I was grateful for the opportunity to spend this moment with her, to bask in the warmth of her presence and the beauty of the world around us.

As we jogged side by side, my mind raced with questions, each one vying for attention as I struggled to maintain my composure in Jasmine's presence. Finally, summoning all my courage, I found the words to break the silence.

"So, Jasmine," I began, my voice betraying a hint of nervousness, "how long have you known Taehyung?"

I glanced at her, hoping to gauge her reaction, but her expression remained impassive, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. For a moment, I feared I had overstepped, that my question had crossed some invisible boundary between us. But then, to my relief, she spoke.

"I've known Taehyung for about a year now," she replied, her voice calm and measured. "He's been my doctor ever since I moved to New York."

Her words sent a jolt of surprise through me, mingled with a twinge of jealousy that I quickly tried to suppress. Taehyung, her doctor? The thought was unsettling, raising questions I didn't dare voice aloud.

"I see," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. "And how have you found your time in New York so far?"

Jasmine shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It's been... interesting," she replied cryptically. "But I'm glad to be back in Seoul. There's no place like home, after all."

Her words struck a chord with me, stirring a sense of longing for the familiar comforts of home. But as I glanced at Jasmine, her eyes bright with determination, I felt a surge of admiration for her resilience in the face of adversity.

As we continued our jog, the conversation flowed more freely, each passing moment bringing us closer together. And though I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of my mind, I found myself drawn to Jasmine in ways I couldn't explain, her presence casting a spell over me that I couldn't resist.

"By the way, where's Taehyung?" I asked her, trying to keep my tone casual but unable to shake the underlying concern for my best friend. Even though I was struggling with my own conflicting emotions, I couldn't help but worry about Taehyung's well-being. After all, he was not only my best friend but also her fiancé, and I felt a sense of responsibility towards both of them.

"Still sleeping," she replied with a cute laugh, her tone light and carefree. Despite my internal turmoil, I couldn't help but smile at her infectious laughter, momentarily forgetting the weight of my own emotions.

"Let's have breakfast together with us. I made croissants," she invited me, her voice warm and inviting. Despite my inner turmoil and the conflicting emotions swirling within me, I couldn't resist the opportunity to spend more time with her.

"Of course, I'd love to," I replied, trying to hide the eagerness in my voice. This was my chance to get closer to her, to learn more about her, and perhaps, to fulfill my own selfish desires.

I followed her until we entered her house. Inside, I caught sight of Taehyung, who had just woken up. Despite his sleepy appearance, I couldn't deny that he looked incredibly handsome. His tousled hair and the sleepy glint in his eyes only added to his charm. Perhaps it was no wonder that Jasmine had fallen for him.

Despite Taehyung's undeniable appeal, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of arrogance as I compared myself to him. Deep down, I believed that I was even more handsome than him.

As Jasmine greeted Taehyung with a tender "Good morning, baby," she leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, right in front of me. I felt a pang of jealousy shoot through me, prompting me to quickly avert my gaze. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like a declaration of their intimacy, a reminder that I was merely an outsider in their world. Yet, despite my discomfort, I couldn't help but admire the affection between them, even as it stirred up conflicting emotions within me.

"Good morning, love," Taehyung reciprocated, his voice filled with warmth as he addressed Jasmine. He then turned his attention to me, offering a welcoming smile. "Look who's here. My friend!" His casual tone belied the complexity of the situation, but I forced a polite smile in return, trying to mask the swirling emotions beneath the surface.

"We accidentally met at the park while I was jogging, so I invited him to have breakfast with us," Jasmine explained, her tone light and cheerful.

"What a sweet gesture," Taehyung replied with a warm smile. He gestured for me to take a seat at the dining table, indicating that he wanted us to have a little chit-chat.

I glanced around Jasmine's house, taking in the soft, coquettish decor and minimalist style that seemed to suit her perfectly.

"I made croissants and a hot chocolate," Jasmine announced as she presented us with the delicious treats. I smiled warmly at her, feeling a sense of comfort as if she were my own wife.

"My fiancée is a great cook. You should try her burnt cheesecake!" Taehyung exclaimed excitedly, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he praised Jasmine's culinary skills.

As I nodded and chuckled along with Taehyung's excitement, a sinister thought crept into my mind. "Oh, I will definitely try her cooking," I thought to myself, a devious smile playing on my lips. "She will be mine soon," I whispered silently in my heart, the darkness of my intentions hidden behind a façade of laughter and camaraderie.

As we sat down to eat, a quiet tension hung in the air, interrupted only by the clinking of utensils against plates and the occasional soft murmur of conversation between Taehyung and Jasmine. Despite my best efforts to engage in the discussion, my mind wandered, fixating on the tender gestures exchanged between the two of them. I watched silently as they passed dishes back and forth, sharing food with a sweetness and intimacy that made my stomach churn with envy and anticipation. Deep down, I knew that soon it would be my turn to bask in that affection, to claim Jasmine as my own. But for now, I could only observe, my desire simmering beneath a veneer of polite conversation and polite smiles.

"Where will the wedding hall be?" I inquired, my curiosity tinged with a hint of jealousy.

"At my family's backyard," Jasmine replied with excitement. "My mom is so excited for me." I glanced at her, noticing a change in her demeanor since the previous night when she seemed more vulnerable.

I nodded, trying to mask the pang of jealousy that surged within me. As I envisioned her in that white dress, radiant and ethereal, I couldn't shake the feeling that it should have been me standing beside her as her husband. Why did fate not lead me to her first? It's a cruel twist of destiny, leaving me to watch from the sidelines as another man takes her hand in marriage. Yet, despite the bitterness gnawing at my heart, I force a smile, congratulating her and wishing her all the happiness in the world. Deep down, I know I'll always harbor this unrequited longing, a silent ache that refuses to fade away.