Elvis Presley

"Wow...why are you so pretty..?" The Southern man admired you from behind the tree, getting all giggly and blushy if he was within one mile of your presence.

He squirmed in his spot as you spoke to your friends. Your sweet, angelic voice filling the air. He giggled a little more as his hands moved up to his face, holding it as his irises dilated.

However...there was a person. A threat. Talking to you. That person was in for something far worse than death ever since they had laid eyes on you.

Elvis found himself glaring daggers at the poor boy, his sneer growing as his hands dropped back down to feel the knife in his pocket.

"No one can have my Satnin, only me." He promised to himself and you, even though you were oblivious to it.

You reminded him of a little white rabbit. Usually gives dopamine, has pristine fur, well organised and has a sense of innocence to it. His favourite animal shifted from cheetahs to white rabbits because of the connection he had forced himself to make.

Everything that was your favourite, or at least reminded him of you, was now his favourite. Oh, you showed a little interest in gum? He's buying the whole stock of the exact brand and flavour. What's that, your favourite outfit? Whole stock is gone.

As you blissfully continue your conversation with the unsuspecting man, Elvis hid in the shadows. His eyes eagerly waiting for you to go about your daily routine that he had already memorised. His irises felt like they turned heart-shaped as he began to daydream about you.