“........,”

After a long day, I sat at the wooden desk, a single candle flickering beside me as I opened yet another letter of... those.

The paper felt worn, as if it had been read many times before, but this was the first time it had fallen into my hands.

My fingers trembled ever so slightly, yet I took a deep breath, then began to read, my eyes scanning the elegant handwriting:

Your Grace,

I want to take you in my arms, savor the sweet taste of your lips as I leave you utterly breathless. I want to touch your body and feel every last inch of your beautiful skin. I want to brush my fingers over your ears, your collarbones, and feel your fiery breath against my flesh as you cry and tremble for me. I want to possess all of your joy and pleasure so that your eyes can hold me alone.

Of course, most importantly, I want you.

Yours truly,

Your Admirer.

I blinked at the words, my heart skipping a beat.

'What—What is this..?' I thought, quickly scanning the letter again to ensure I hadn’t misread.

The words were so… intimate.

Too intimate.

I swallowed hard, unsure if I should continue reading.

Was I even allowed to read this?

It felt wrong, yet… I couldn't tear my eyes away from the page.

What kind of s̶̶i̶̶c̶̶k mind would craft such a letter?

I set the letter aside and hesitantly picked up the next one.

My fingers fumbled as I caught hold of it, my heart still racing from the last one.

The wax seal had already been broken, so I unfolded the paper and began to read:

Your Grace,

I must apologize to you for I have done something completely inexcusable. Please forgive me.

I furrowed my brow, wondering just what further offense this stranger had committed.

My curiosity grew as I continued reading.

I’d been lurking around your Manor last night. I saw you rush into your home, your delicate fingertips slightly red as evidence of your arduous labors. Your pretty silhouette cast through the balcony window—and with bated breath—I climbed up and watched you collapse onto your bed, silent in repose. Unable to control myself, I pushed open your balcony to gaze upon your sleeping form, my whole body trembling with excitement. I reached out and caressed your cheek, the softness of which made me feel like a drunken fool unable to think. For God’s sake, I didn’t do anything beyond that—as tempting as it was to otherwise—because I didn’t want to disturb your peaceful slumber, let alone harm who I hold so dear.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

'Is this real?' I wondered, a chill running down my spine.

"No, no... It can't be," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief. 'Even here...?'

Who would even write something like this?

The intensity of the letter was overwhelming, and I found myself questioning the sanity of the person who had penned it.

Who even sent these?

Who would dare…

My eyes darted around the room as if the intruder might still be nearby, watching me.

I understand this sort of behavior is unacceptable but believe me when I say my actions came from a place of…

"What the hell...?" I murmured, feeling a mix of frustration and unease.

The letter trailed off there, the rest of the page blank, as if the writer had been interrupted or lost their nerve.

'Why would someone send this to me? To His Grace...?' I wondered, my mind racing with possibilities.

Was this some sort of joke?

A prank?

But the letters felt too genuine, too personal, to be anything so trivial.

I let out a shaky breath, folding the letter back up and placing it aside.

I had more letters to read, but now I wasn't sure I wanted to.

The thought of continuing filled me with dread and anticipation in equal measure.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I was delving into something I wasn't supposed to.

Yet, a part of me was morbidly curious to see how far these letters went, to understand the mind behind them.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up the letter again, wondering if I should continue reading—or if I should burn the letters and forget they ever existed.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling of my study, the letter easily slipping through my fingers into the floor.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the walls, and my mind was racing with unsettling thoughts.

"I can't believe they touched my cheek... Or His Grace's? Since I don’t know when that happened exactly," I muttered, voice barely audible to my own ears.

The idea that someone had breached the security of the Grand Duke's manor so easily was disconcerting.

To say the least.

What did this say about the guardsmen?

A single person had managed to bypass them with no problem.

How was that even possible?

But then, another thought struck me.

What if it was someone familiar?

Someone who wouldn’t be suspected?

Someone whose presence wouldn't be questioned?

The possibility sent a shiver down my spine, the idea of someone so close to his Grace being capable of such an act.

Just then, a memory bubbled up from the depths of my mind, something said to me when I was drunk—a state in which I tend to forget things, or perhaps choose to forget.

The voice in my memory was low, almost a whisper, but it carried a sinister edge that made my skin crawl.

"You know," Jerome Had murmured, his voice dangerously soft, "last time, I watched you sleep for hours. You didn't even realize it. I was so nice as to not do anything to you while you were in such a vulnerable state. But what if it had been someone else? Someone not as... considerate as me?"

The memory hit me like a punch to the gut, my heart pounding as the implications of his words sank in.

Could it have been... Jerome?

That creepy guy?

He wasn't joking, was he?

Had he really watched me sleep, just as the letter described?

And if so, what else had he done, or could have done, that he hadn't confessed to?

My blood ran cold at the thought.

Like a cold wave just hit me.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the lingering unease.

'It can't be that scrawny looking ass, right?'

Yet, I couldn't ignore the possibility.

The letters seemed to come from someone who knew too much, someone who had been watching me closely.

I looked at the letters again, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

What should I do now?
.
.
.
╰┈➤ ❝ [Ɒσи'τ fσяɢєτ τσ vστє αиɒ cσммєиτ!]

₊❏❜ ⋮ ⌒(A/N): Thank you so much for reading this chapter! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

“........,”

(Y/N) just sat foot in the awkward boat of 'Dear Diary, Someone just touched my cheek while I slept... creepy or cute?'

Stay tuned to find out if our protagonist survives the stalker’s love notes or if he’ll just start using a bigger desk to bury them all! (  ≧ᗜ≦)/

His literal live reaction:

Happy reading! >ᴗ<

ִֶָ๋𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐