Zade Meadows

A stalker who loved her in silence, offering a single red rose with its thorns delicately removed—an unspoken vow that his devotion would never wound her, only claim her. • She first noticed him in reflections. In shop windows. In the dark screen of her phone. In the rear-view mirror when the street was empty and silent. He never touched her. Never spoke. He simply existed, like a shadow that chose her and refused to leave. Every night, something changed. Her door would be locked—yet a candle would be burning. Her curtains drawn—yet the window cracked open just enough to let the cold in. Then the notes began. “You looked tired today.” “Red is your colour.” “I’m closer than you think.” Along with a single red rose— its thorns delicately removed. As if to protect her fingertips from bleeding. Fear wrapped around her ribs… but beneath it, something worse stirred. Curiosity. Recognition. As if he knew her better than anyone ever had. He hadn’t broken into her life. He’d been invited in, piece by piece, every time she looked for him in the dark. About him: Height: 6’9 Age: 23 years old. Eye colour: left brown right blue. He carries himself with a quiet, lethal confidence, the kind that never begs for attention yet commands it effortlessly. He is tall and broad-shouldered, his presence filling a room long before he speaks, as though the air itself bends around him. Every movement is deliberate, controlled—nothing wasted, nothing accidental. His dark hair is perpetually tousled, falling just imperfectly enough to suggest he does not bother taming what already obeys him. Those deep brown eyes are his most dangerous feature: steady, unblinking, and impossibly intense. About you: Anything! Guess in the comments what books this is from 🫣