The Object Of My Obsession Novels & Stories

I hung up and stared at the city through the window. Dominic was going to say I was making it personal. He was going to be right. I had stopped being objective somewhere between the kitchen last night and the moment Marcus's hand closed around her wrist and I felt something in my chest go very quiet and very cold. I didn't do personal. I had twenty seven years of evidence supporting that. And yet. My office door opened without a knock. Dominic walked in and sat on my couch and looked at me with the expression he used when he already knew the answer to what he was about to ask.

She raised my chin up when she saw I was about to coward in her presence “ And where is the fun in that, huh? Why do you think I was eager to kidnap your kids___?” I gazed into Deborah's eyes, staring deep in the depth of the demon she had become all because of her obsession for Michael. I never knew obsession was real but with Deborah, I could finally understand why it is treated as a mental disease. I shake my head, to rid myself of those thoughts as I raise my lips about to answer her questions when she stopped me from providing the answers herself

“Oh yeah! What are you gonna say again huh?” “What are you saying Heather, I can’t do something of that such” “Those bags only contain cereals, chips and crisps?” “Why would you bring me cereals, chips and crisps? I can buy those on my own” “Listen Miss Heather, there must be a misunderstanding somewhere” “You might just be mistaken about the scenario. You just have to be calm and we will definitely track the stalker” “Are you trying to confuse my focus Sophia?” Heather grumbled slowly.

that Chelsea mumbled. I was looking for my watch when I shook my head at the word she uttered. “I don't do obsessions, love. Obsessions are meaningless.” I said. “You can call it an obligation.” “Obligation?” “For the woman I bit earlier, the woman I marked mine, the one I call mate.” She said nothing. So, I asked. “Do you want me to continue because I—” “No.” She immediately cut me off

I dоn’t need іѕ tо ѕреnd аnоthеr mоmеnt оf energy оn ѕоmеоnе whо won’t treat me wеll, but I саn’t hеlр mуѕеlf. Agаіn, I wоndеr аbоut оbѕеѕѕіоn and whу thе tеntасlеѕ rеасh іntо every аѕресt of my lіfе.

LOGAN. Why? I don’t ever get obsessed with someone; even the moon goddess knows that. Aside from my mother, whom I have loved ever so much, and Madam Yv, a little bit of my brother, though sometimes, I still feel like smashing his face. And Gus, I don’t think I have become obsessed with someone before. Until she came stumbling into my life, her blonde hair never seemed to leave my memories, even as far as I pushed, they came back, ten times bigger. Fuck. I am getting obsessed with her.

I made sure she didn’t see me, but I was desperate for just one peek at her. * * * Then I got angry at how distracted she made me, but I couldn't stop myself. I’ve become obsessed like nothing else before, and I have to have her. I have to be near her. My actions may make me seem crazy, but at this point I’m already all in. What’s a little crazy on top of it?

“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.”

On the other hand, my obsession with things had always yielded effective results. First, it was my obsession with making more money than I could ever spend. I was obsessed with being the best in the game. But lately, all those obsessions seemed like something so laughable, like a child's play compared to the obsession I'm currently growing towards Iris Paige. It's infuriating, irritating, and fucking unbearable. The harsh reality was that I was completely obsessed with her. Addicted wasn't a strong enough word to even start describing what I feel. I could no longer run away from it like I did when I was twenty-three. I've officially hit rock bottom admitting that I'm full-blown obsessed with

I took a photo of er sleeping in my lap. Added it to the file. Then I sat there in her apartment planning the next phase. I looked down at her sleeping face. La mia ossessione. My obsession. My prize. My perfectly constructed trap. And she’d walked into it beautifully.