Obsessive Novels & Stories

She gave him a hard gaze, "In your dreams, Aleksandr. You asked me this before too and I also told you, you are my obsession. And I hate it the way it's making me look in front of my family. Everyone thinks I am in love with you!" He chuckled with amusing features. "And that's troubling you. Because now your family thinks you are in love with me." "Stop laughing." She gritted out. Aleksandr neared her face and nodded. "Do you know what obsession means, Tigritsa?" He asked her, his eyes gleamed as He spoke. "Obsession is when you have many beautiful ladies at your beck and call. Yet you are not interested in them. You only want the woman who refuses to let you come near her. Obsession is when

should I be worried? Should I inform Amber about it?". "Hmm", I said. "indeed, obsession will make you do crazy things".

Everything where I had left it that morning. Then I turned toward the hallway. The wall opposite the door was covered in red paint, dripping down the wall, with large letters boldly written on it. It read; “THERE ARE TOO MANY DISTRACTIONS AROUND US. DON'T MISS ME TOO MUCH. I NEED TO CLEAR THE DISTRACTIONS FOR OUR FUTURE.” I stood in the doorway and stared at it. My heart was hammering. My mind was running through every person who had a key. Nina had one, she never gave it back. It couldn’t have been Lydia, she dropped hers before she left.

I breathed. "I’m obsessed," he corrected, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw with a chilling tenderness. "There’s a difference. Insane people don’t plan for ten years to take back what was stolen from them. Obsessed people don't stop until there is nothing left of their enemy but ash."

More dangerous. And in his own room, Ronan stared at the red mark on his cheek in the mirror, a dark, satisfied smile curving his lips. One taste would never be enough. She was already his obsession, he smirked.

" I said. "Right. My dopamine brain. Put it all together, and I'm pretty much one hundred percent focused on sex, how to get it, how keep it going and going and going, how to get more, how to make it fun, exciting, inventive, well, you get the idea." "Fuck, Anna, how did you ever become a calculus professor with all that sex in your brain?" "It's my Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Combined with the excess dopamine in my brain and my unusual vaginal anatomy, I'm a relentless sex machine. When I focus on sex, I can't stop. I have to have it, over and over and over.

It never ends well. Obsession is lethal. It creeps in quietly, wrapping itself around you like comfort, but it suffocates in the end. It erases who you were and replaces it with hunger. If I stay, the person I am will disappear, replaced by someone who longs for a violent man, a sadistic killer. Obsession has never been a good trait, and this one terrifies me more than he ever could. More than what happened earlier tonight. Being locked in that office was horrifying, but this is worse. This feels like addiction, deep and consuming.

Daniel walked into the room and he couldn't figure out what was going on with him. He couldn't put his finger on it and it frustrated him. He paced the room, feeling restless and agitated. In a fit of anger, he slammed his hand on the expensive glass table and made his way to the mirror. He stared at his reflection, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. "This is not like me. What is happening? I don't understand." He said as he shrugged his shoulders. Daniel grabbed his phone and sat on the bed, but still, he couldn't get hold of himself.

My best friend, Hannah Price, had once asked me on the phone, "What exactly is so special about Adrian Halloway? What's made you love him for fifteen years straight?" I could never put it into words. When we first met, I could list a hundred things I admired about him, but the more I loved him, the less I could explain why. Isn't that what a teenage crush was? No rhyme or reason, just hurling every ounce of love at someone until you hit a wall and can't turn back. I closed the journal again. Maybe the thirty-year-old me had been too proud, too unsure of how to act, so she left it to the version of me with only twenty years of memories to choose for her.

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