Driving My Obsession Novels & Stories

Then he brushed his hair back with both hands and smirked. "Oh yeah?" he said, stepping back. He got in his car and drove off. I stood alone in the parking lot with my file in my hand and my heart in my throat. ………………………………………………………………….. I got in my car and drove. I did not go home. I just drove. The city blurred past the windows. I thought about David's face when I said Noah's name. The way his hand dropped. The way his eyes went wide. "Arghhh!" I yelled, holding tightly to my steering wheel.

As she drove, she gripped the steering wheel tightly her knuckles turning white. She drove reeklessly, ignoring all the red lights and curses from other drivers. Her foot pressed down forcefully on the accelerator. When she got to her expensive, well hidden villa in the shrubs, her anger exploded. She grabbed a fruit knife and stabbed a feather doll lying on her cushion to pieces.

His eyes darkened, sharp as glass. “You think this is about ownership?” he said quietly. “It’s about survival. You don’t see it yet, but you will. The world out there doesn’t care if you collapse. Doesn’t care if you disappear. But I do. I always will.” Adrian’s throat tightened. “That’s not love. That’s obsession.” Evan leaned forward, voice low, intimate. “Love is obsession. Anyone who tells you different has never felt it.” Adrian stood abruptly, gathering his things. “This ends now.”

A short pause occurred before the command emerged to silence the driver. An involuntary pause seized my breathing. Silence the driver? An unnatural shiver crawled along my spine while my hands clenched the blanket tighter and my heartbeat thundered through my ears. The situation dictates that my auditory attention should not be focused on these sounds. My internal warnings flashed against taking action. But I did. The desire to move nearer and catch additional words while insisting on an explanation of his meaning drove me. An intrinsic segment of my consciousness had previously acquired this understanding. Alexander transcended the role of mere mess cleaner. The individual known as he execu

I need a break. Not only that, but I leave home and drive to the club, strange driving after so long, because it’s good years that I have a driver and never go out alone. But it’s like riding a bike, you can’t forget. When I get to the club, I immediately regret coming. It’s not my environment to relax. Not my environment at all. Point.

Jasmine meant everything to him, and he would do anything to protect her. "You're obsessed with her." That sentence always echoed in Seth's ears whenever he recalled his conversation with Danzell. Even his own father had expressed the same thing. However, Seth didn't care. To Seth, whether it was obsession, love, or any other madness, one thing was clear: Jasmine must always be in his grip. Jasmine was the center of his universe, and Seth would never let anything or anyone disturb that balance.

Hell, what had possessed me to make a quick call at the club to tell them that she quitted? 'Because she belongs to you, and you are too god damn selfish to allow her to spend any of her time with any thing else, let alone anyone ' the voice in my head screamed out. I quickly shut it out, not liking the direction it was headed. I was losing it. This fixation and addiction made me think of Hayden, I've never understood how he could be so obsessed about having someone. But here I was, only he had never failed to openly admit his.

So why do I want to run away? When I met him, I understood. I know it's an awful cliché, but my brain saw clearly. The freshness of this feeling intoxicated me, and I let myself be trapped. Again. Like yesterday. I blame myself like a woman on a diet who sneaked a bite of two croissants on the spot. They gave me extreme satisfaction at the time. I would even ask for a third if my pockets weren't suffering so much, but I have to be sensible myself.

And now, there is a record of my moan, tell me, who wouldn’t feel broken at this? Adrian looked away from me and closed his eyes. For long seconds he didn’t say anything, my heart was thumping like a thousand drums in my chest and I had the fear that he wouldn’t have a good explanation. For some reason, I don’t know, I really wanted him to have a good explanation for it. He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes still closed and he said, “I have an obsession.”

“Now? I probably drink until I forget. Or until I hate him enough to stop caring.” “That doesn’t sound healthy.” I let the silence settle between us. The bar’s dim lights painted shadows on the floor, and my buzz was just strong enough to make everything blur at the edges. I leaned forward again, fingers toying with the condensation on my glass. “You ever get so obsessed with someone,” I murmured, “that it’s not even about them anymore? It’s about how they make you feel. How they pull out the ugliest parts of you, and you still keep crawling back like a sick little dog looking for scraps.”