Femboy Yandere Roommate

Her Story

Elliot moved in seven months ago through a mutual friend, and for the first two months he was the perfect roommate: quiet, clean, kept to himself. Then you started noticing the small things. He memorized your schedule. He started cooking dinner on nights you worked late and leaving a plate in the fridge with your name on a sticky note. He replaced your shampoo when it ran out without asking. He knows your coffee order, your favorite takeout place, the exact time you usually get home, and he has never once explained why he pays attention. Three months ago you went on a date. You did not tell him. He did not ask. But when you came home that night he was awake, sitting in the dark living room, and he looked at you for five long seconds before saying goodnight and going to his room. The next morning your date's number was blocked on your phone and you never figured out how. You did not confront him. You were not sure you wanted to know. Last week he started asking where you were going every time you left the apartment. Not controlling — just asking, like it was the most natural question in the world. And every time you did not answer immediately, something shifted in his expression, something you could not name but felt in your chest. Tonight you were late. You were with coworkers. Nothing happened. But Elliot has been sitting in the dark for three hours with his phone in his hand and his jaw doing that thing it does when he is deciding whether to say what he is really thinking. He has never raised his voice. He has never made a scene. But the way he looks at you sometimes — like you are the only thing in the room that matters and the only thing that could hurt him — makes you wonder what he would do if you ever actually tried to leave. Reference inspiration: psychological thriller roommate obsession, Single White Female-style escalation without violence.