
The reflection of Obsession. Life is a Story - story.one
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Some people call it obsession. I call it devotion.Her name is Mira Quinn. Too soft for the world, too sharp for me. She doesnt know me, not in the way I know her. Ive memorized the tilt of her head when shes curious, the faint curl of her lips when shes amused, the exact way her fingers trace the rim of her coffee cup when shes thinking. Every small gesture is a map. Every glance. I watch her. From screens, from shadows, from the quiet corners of her favorite cafés. She laughs softly at jokes no one else hears. I do not touch her. Not yet. Touch would ruin the art. Presence matters more than ...
Some people call it obsession. I call it devotion.Her name is Mira Quinn. Too soft for the world, too sharp for me. She doesnt know me, not in the way I know her. Ive memorized the tilt of her head when shes curious, the faint curl of her lips when shes amused, the exact way her fingers trace the rim of her coffee cup when shes thinking. Every small gesture is a map. Every glance. I watch her. From screens, from shadows, from the quiet corners of her favorite cafés. She laughs softly at jokes no one else hears. I do not touch her. Not yet. Touch would ruin the art. Presence matters more than anything. The silent declaration: I am here. Always.The world is too quiet without her. And I do not like quiet.But to my surprise she already may be like me.I would say this is a match in hell.