All Chapters of Hidden Obsession : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Adrian didn’t remember when the fight left him.It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t dramatic. There was no single breaking point where he screamed, slammed the door, or fell into Evan’s arms in a rush of desperate passion. No—it was smaller, quieter, like a rope fraying one strand at a time until there was nothing left to hold on to.Every knock on the door he ignored, every “chance” encounter with Evan on the street, every phone call answered against his better judgment—all of it had chipped away at him until he stood here, staring at the man who had inserted himself into every part of his life, and realized he no longer had the strength to push him away.The lilies from yesterday still stood in the glass vase on his counter, their scent clinging to the apartment. Evan sat across from him on the couch, long legs crossed, posture relaxed but gaze sharp, like a predator who knew the hunt was already over.Adrian rubbed his face with his hands, exhaustion sinking deep into his bones. “You win,”

Adrian never thought routine could feel like betrayal.Yet here he was, three mornings in a row, waking in the same warmth, his body pressed to Evan’s like it was the most natural thing in the world. His apartment smelled faintly of coffee again—freshly brewed, rich and dark—and from the kitchen came the quiet clatter of dishes.Adrian blinked up at the ceiling, his throat tight. I should tell him to leave. The words circled his mind every morning, sharp and insistent. But then Evan would come in, barefoot and calm, setting a steaming mug on Adrian’s nightstand, and the words dissolved into nothing.“Morning,” Evan said softly, his hair still damp from a shower. He wore one of Adrian’s shirts, stretched slightly across his broader shoulders. It should’ve looked ridiculous, but somehow it didn’t.Adrian sat up slowly, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. His lips brushed the rim, and he breathed in the comfort before taking a sip.He hated how much he liked this.---Their days slip

Adrian had no idea what possessed him when he whispered the invitation.It slipped out like a secret, soft and trembling, carried on the quiet hum of the car’s engine. A part of him had hoped Evan wouldn’t hear it, that the request would dissolve into the night air. But of course Evan heard. He always heard.The simple “Yes” that followed replayed in Adrian’s mind the entire walk up to his apartment. His hand shook slightly as he fumbled with the keys, aware of the man standing close behind him—too close. Yet, when the door swung open, it was Adrian who stepped aside and gestured Evan inside, like a host welcoming a guest.His chest tightened. What am I doing?---The apartment felt smaller than usual with Evan in it. He didn’t need to say a word; his presence filled every corner. Adrian busied himself with pointless rituals—dropping his bag on the counter, fussing with the stack of mail, turning on a lamp—as if they mattered. Anything to avoid the weight of Evan’s gaze.But it follow

Morning light poured through the blinds of Adrian’s apartment, dust motes drifting lazily in the air as if mocking his inability to rest. Sleep had become a fragile thing ever since Evan had entered his life—never deep enough, never free of awareness. But lately, it wasn’t terror keeping him awake. It was something harder to admit: the weight of expectation.For the last week, Evan had insisted on driving him to and from work. At first Adrian resisted. He didn’t want his neighbors seeing the sleek black car parked outside his shabby building, didn’t want coworkers whispering about the man with ice-blue eyes and sharp suits who seemed to have claimed him. But Evan didn’t leave room for negotiations. One way or another, he got his way, and Adrian—tired, frayed, caught in the slow-moving tide—let himself be swept along.That morning was no different. Evan leaned against the hood of his car when Adrian stepped outside, the early sun gilding his dark hair. His posture was casual, but the i

Adrian woke the next morning feeling strangely lighter, though the memory of last night lingered in the back of his mind like a dangerous aftertaste. He had expected Evan to corner him again, to suffocate him with control, but instead Evan had taken him to a diner. A diner. He’d let him choose what to eat, let him talk about himself without interruption, without steering the conversation toward Evan’s world.And yet, even in the softness, Adrian felt the undertow. The fact that Evan knew his tastes so precisely wasn’t a coincidence. It was calculated. Everything Evan did—even the gentle gestures—was rooted in his constant watching, his obsessive attention.But Adrian couldn’t deny that, for the first time, he hadn’t hated it.That thought clung to him all day at work, distracting him as he sat through meetings and sorted reports. When his phone buzzed near lunchtime, he almost didn’t want to look. But curiosity got the better of him.Evan: 'Meet me outside at six. I’ll drive you home.