Paranoia.

Perfect tanned Italian skin glowed faintly beneath the dim light fixture in the conner of my tiny room. My eyes racked over his motionless frame. His stomach did not rise, nor did it fall. His features relaxed and peaceful just as if he would someday wake up. My face twitched into a smile, looking down on what was now mine, forever. Shakily, I ran a finger over his shut eyelids, his skin frigid, yet still holding a sudden warmth. He was mine forever now.

I attempted to forget how he became my possession. If he just said [i]yes[/i], he'd be able to feel the excitement I felt. It's not my fault, really. As a human being I long for possession, and I lust for the material I cannot have. But none of it mattered to me now. Frank Anthony Iero was all mine. Just mine. Not for anyone else to rake their dirty irises over. Not for anyone else to touch. He belonged to me, and the very thought made my stomach do somersaults.

The days I had spent watching him began to bore me. I remember when I was satisfied with admiring his perfection from a distance. As he interacted in his natural environment, whilst I surveyed him. I knew him better than any of his friends would ever dream. I knew his secrets, I knew his desires, I knew him better. The way Frank would spend his days with people he didn't even care for made me sick to my stomach. I could love him better, I knew him inside and out.

Stalker isn't the right word, but it certainly comes close. Maybe I was just fascinated. I'd never seen anyone like him before.

I knew him from High School. He had friends, but he wasn't anything special to those ungrateful children that pushed passed him. I had almost no friends. But it doesn't matter anymore. I would watch him during recess, as he ate politely occasionally interjecting with a witty comment, or just a soft smile. I sat a way away from him, he never noticed me. Sometimes I wished he'd catch me staring at him, so for just a moment he'd be thinking of me.

After I graduated, because of the age difference, it was hard to find him. But, in a few years, I found him. He lost some of the boyish qualities he had had last I remembered him, however something about his new way was age-old, and replaced what I missed with ease. At the time, he was with this particular girl, even though he was homosexual, as I later found out. I hated her. Her honey-brown hair reaching down to her dainty breasts that perked from under her shirt, her shimmering jade eyes, always lined with a bit of chestnut eyeliner. She was beautiful, I'd give her that but she could never love him like I did.

I'm surprised he never noticed me everywhere he went. I was his shadow, looming from behind him wherever he went. I longed to set foot in his home, or get close enough to know what he smelt like. What kind of scent did he have? Everyone has one. Maybe I wanted to be caught, just so he'd know me just for a moment. I wouldn't be a stranger for just a second.

But none of it mattered now.

He was mine forever now; his unmoving body laying next to mine in my warm bed. If he could see me, I really think he'd like me. If he knew me, he'd love me for real. I got what I wanted this year, I got Frank Iero. One way or another, I knew he would just belong to me one day. Whether I'd have to make him, or he'd choose me on his own, I just [i]knew[/i].

Have you ever wanted something, and you just know you're going to have it. You can picture yourself with it? And, in the end, you get it. It's just one of those feelings, you always get what you truly want in the end.

So, one way or another, Frankie knew he wanted this. He may not have known before, but now he does know. He loves me forever now. He'll never be alone.

I brushed a hand over his flawless cheek, being careful of him. He really was priceless; one of a kind. Extinct now. Forever mine.