You can’t see me watching you as you soak in the bath, up to your neck in soft, fragrant bubbles which massage your delicate skin, enveloping you in a silken caress. You can’t see me even when I sit next to you on the train as I inhale your floral scent and gently brush my hand innocently against yours; instead you shuffle closer to the window, gazing out at a passing world.
I see your reflection in the glass; pale blue eyes, rosy lips, plump and inviting as your warm breath leaves a misty haze.
Tonight, you don’t see me following you, you don’t hear my light footsteps, akin to a cat on the prowl for prey, stalking silently. But the last thing you see is me, my dark eyes staring into yours as you soak in your bubble bath, the bubbles at last fading as the water cools and is still.
Written for Lllie Mcferrin's Five Sentence Fiction