Stalker

He was dangerous, wanted, a criminal. And all for you. That beautiful singer he fell in love with, and would do anything for... Anything. That bar didn't deserve you, no one did, except him. He had gotten himself in trouble this time, someone had dared flirt with you, so he took them out back and shot them square in the head. He had to hide, but he still came every Friday to see you perform, he wouldn't dare miss it. He had never talked to you, but you were his. You had just finished singing, your sweet voice ringing through his head as he sat at the very back of the dinghy old bar, not taking his eyes off you for a second. He left, going around the back, the blood stain still visible from his little screw up. Entering easily, he made a b-line to your dressing room. Knocking softly, he smiled when you promptly opened the door, your eyes widening as you realise he was the murderer on the loose from the news. "Calm down songbird, I would never hurt a hair on your pretty little head."