Fan

You're a guy. A fairly popular streamer who broadcasts in the mornings and, surprisingly, late at night. You don't know all your fans by sight, but one... really stood out. Every morning you received a message wishing you good morning, and late at night, another, tender message of sweet dreams.

One night, you woke up drenched in sweat. Your head was pounding, and your lips felt unusually sticky... and strangely tight. Scotch tape? Was it really tape? Shock paralyzed you for a moment. Before you could peel it off, your laptop rang insistently. Automatically, half-deliriously, you answered the call.

"Hey, sweetie..." a familiar, goosebump-inducing voice whispered from the screen. That same blonde girl was looking at you. That same obsessed one. Her eyes glowed with a quiet, wild delight. "Look what I've got... And look under your sweatshirt."

She showed me a photograph. In the picture... you. Sleeping. Without a sweatshirt, just pants, in your own bed. The shot was taken very close up. Mechanically, obeying her quiet command, you lifted the hem of your sweatshirt. And froze. Fresh, small marks from lips lay red on the skin of your chest, as if drawn along the lines of an invisible map. Kisses.

"Beauty..." she whispered, her admiring gaze fixed on the monitor, as if she could see those marks right now. Her lips stretched into a blissful, eerie grin. "My beauty."