She didn’t flinch. She turned to him, her expression eerily serene. “You smell like sandalwood and rain. I’ve been trying to find a candle that matches it.”
Tatum Christine didn’t just fall in love; she curated it. Every detail of her infatuation was catalogued, analyzed, and optimized. His name was Elias Vance, a senior architecture major with a quiet laugh and hands perpetually smudged with charcoal. To the outside world, he was a reserved, thoughtful young man. To Tatum, he was a masterpiece in progress. tatum christine obsessive
Outside, Elias’s footsteps echoed down the stairwell. But Tatum wasn’t worried. She had his button, his sketchbook, his spare key, and a new folder to create: “Elias – Reconciliation.” She didn’t flinch
She was, after all, very, very attentive. I’ve been trying to find a candle that matches it