He Sees You When You're Sleeping

by Alta Hensley

Not only has he been shoveling my walkway after every storm, but he also hung the Christmas lights outside my window. Granted, it was a single and simple strand of lights on my tall shrub, but I appreciated the effort.

Girly you didn't once question these things? Survival instincts of an earthworm.

“Maybe Santa’s elves. Or you have yourself a helpful stalker.”

Well one of those isn’t real.

Over the past few years, I’ve been shoveling Chloe’s walkway after a snowstorm for three reasons.

I promise myself that this will be the last time I come around to watch her from afar. But deep down inside, I know that’s a lie. Chloe Hallman is my drug.

I should go inside as it’s butt cold,

Am I too fucking high or is this definitely not a saying?

I am a creative powerhouse. My ideas are fresh and innovative. I wouldn’t have been asked to be their brand ambassador if I didn’t have the something something.

Girlypop you show off jewelry pieces on livestream. It’s giving more mlm than creative endeavor.

Though Moth to the Flame is known for affordable “costume jewelry,” the pieces are always elegant and have a level of class that blows me away. It’s a treasure trove of beauty,

This sounds like an mlm pitch for Paparazzi 😂

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with. Your creativity never ceases to amaze me.”

Hailey’s work is darker and edgier. Each piece tells a story, from the rough-hewn silver cuffs embedded with uncut gemstones to the delicate wire sculptures that look like they might take flight at any moment.

Ughh this is like a suburban mom's idea of edgy.

Hailey’s jewelry is much more my style. It’s gothic in nature. Collars, chokers, metal and raw. It’s a blend of BDSM club and Victorian elegance that speaks to my soul in a way Moth to the Flame’s more mainstream pieces never quite manage.

The jewelry is dark...like my soul.

It fuels the “Chlo” as I like to call her.

Oh god not a fucking goth alter ego. Why?

“Thanks. I really poured my heart into this collection. It’s inspired by ancient myths and legends—you know, the dark, twisted on...

No one has ever thought of doing a collection like that.

Gone is the polished influencer in her secondhand blazer and knockoff heels. In her place emerges Chlo—edgy, daring, and unapologetically herself.

Oh FOR FUCK’S SAKE!

As we wrap up the final shots, I feel a twinge of regret. I don’t want to take off these pieces and go back to being regular Chloe. “You know,” Hailey says, as if reading my thoughts, “you could keep that look if you wanted. The world could use a little more Chlo.”

Bitch don't you dare encourage that cringy nonsense. It's giving inner goddess from 50 Shades and I mean that as an insult.

As I lower my phone, a chill runs through me that has nothing to do with the cold. Who has been shoveling my walkway all this time? And why?

How is it just now occuring to her that this is weird?

Jesus, I’m beginning to sound like my grandpop, god rest his soul.

This stalker is just as fucking cringe and boring as she is.

“Hey there,” I want to say. “Fancy seeing you here.” But the words catch in my throat. Thank god, because who the hell says the word fancy?

Sir, you just used the word grandpop.

She’s not one of those girls who lives on their phones twenty-four seven.

She's not like those other girls.

“Let me guess,” he says with a knowing smirk. “Large black coffee?” I clear my throat, suddenly aware of how transparent I’ve become. “Actually,” I say, surprising myself, “I’ll have what she’s having.”

See he’s also not like other guys. He’s not too toxically masculine to order something other than black coffee

“Soy latte with cinnamon?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice. “That’s . . . unexpected.” My face heats up again. “Uh, yeah. Trying something new,”

What kind of antiquated toxic masculinity bullshit is this. It’s fucking coffee not a gender studies thesis, why is this the second bit of dialogue surprised that a man is drinking not black coffee?

“I’m an influencer. Sales, I guess you could say. For jewelry brands.” “That sounds interesting.”

It literally doesn’t

I pause for dramatic effect, enjoying the way Chloe leans in closer, hanging on my every word.

I wish the mountain lion ate him.

“That’s insane! I can’t believe you actually experienced that.” “That’s because I didn’t. I’m kidding,” I admit, laughing loudly. “But it makes for a great story at parties.”

Why did I need to read 2 pages of this boring story that wasn’t even true?

Chloe’s right. I am a good person. I am.

Dude you watch a woman through her window at night. You’re most definitely not a good person.

But as I start walking to work, I can’t shake the image of Chloe’s smile, the sound of her laugh. I tell myself this is the last time, that I’ll stop coming to the café, stop following her. Okay . . . I’m a liar. I miss her already.

You should talk to a therapist about it.

“I, uh . . . I may have looked up the address in your contract. I know that’s probably crossing a line, but I really wanted to talk to you the last time you were in the office, but you rushed out and . . .” A mixture of curiosity and unease floods in. Tyler and I have always been friendly at work, but we’ve never hung out outside the office. What could be so urgent that he’d track down my home address?

So you understand that just showing up to someone’s house like this is creepy.

I pause, my hand hovering over the coffee maker. Black coffee? Maybe there’s more to Tyler than I thought.

Why is this author so fucking obsessed with gendering coffee orders?!

“The Marquis de Sade? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a fan of eighteenth-century erotic literature.”

Oh ffs. I bet this is Chlo’s book. 🙄

“So,” Tyler says, breaking the silence. His voice is low, almost a purr. “What other interesting literature are you hiding on those shelves?” I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry despite the coffee. “Nothing special,” I manage. “Just your typical bestsellers and classics.”

Why the fuck did you invite this man into your house if you’re so uncomfortable?

Tyler is weird. Plain and simple.

Bitch if you don’t put on your big girl pants and tell this man to leave.

“You know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve always believed that our deepest desires, our darkest fantasies, they’re nothing to be ashamed of. They’re what make us human.”

What the fuck is this scene? I know the author is trying to paint this as creepy, and it is but it’s no more creepy than watching a woman through her window without consent.

Bad, bad girl! I want to burst through that window and explain the dangers, lecture her on fire safety, spank her naughty and perfect ass, and then beg her to let me fix it properly.

🤢🤢

fire detectors

Smoke detectors. 🙄

“Of course. That’s so nice of you. People these days don’t seem to look out for each other like they used to. It’s refreshing to see someone so willing to help.” He shuffles back into his house, returning a moment later with a small key. “Here you go. It’s the spare Chloe gave me for emergencies.”

Fuck you Mr Haven. Why are you giving out the key to someone else’s house?

Instead, I pull out a nanny camera. It would fit so perfectly next to this alarm and Chloe would never be the wiser.

I would beat this man like that smoke detector if I were her.

The line between protector and predator has never felt so blurry.

That’s because there’s no protector here only predator.

I don’t know why I was hoping to see Jack today at the café—maybe

I don’t either. He’s a creep.

After my last boyfriend, I swore to myself that I’d steer clear of vanilla, and something about Mr. Fireman screams vanilla.

Girl you’re so boring that vanilla is spicy. 😂

I scan the room quickly. Huh? How does he see me?

Ah yes, this is creepy stalker behavior but the dude looking in the windows at night is a-ok.

“It’s not a good idea,” I cut in. “Sloane gave me a bunch of jewelry to show when we met this morning, and I haven’t done any recording lately. I’m super behind, and with the holidays . . .” I lie as I take a deep breath. “Timing isn’t right.”

This is some neurotypical bullshit here. Just flat out tell him no.

“A coworker who doesn’t quite understand boundaries. Nothing I can’t handle.”

You could try actually setting clear boundaries instead of just avoiding the topic

I laugh and gesture to my own lip. “You’ve got a little . . .” He wipes it away, his cheeks flushing slightly.

What if I told him that nothing would turn me on more than having him knock our hot chocolates to the floor with one swoop of his arm and throw me across the table instead? He’d tear off my clothes and fuck me without a second thought to the people around us. Nothing could get in the way of his hunger for me and— Jesus . . . I don’t want to risk chasing the man out of the building.

Bitch go to therapy before you get yourself arrested

“But my absolute favorite is Love Island. It’s so ridiculous and over-the-top, but I can’t stop watching. I call it Cringe Island and yet I watch every episode.”

How is it that this woman gets more boring the more we find out about her?

We discuss our favorite books (he loves historical fiction, I’m more into psychological thrillers), our go-to comfort foods (mac and cheese for him, ice cream for me), and our most embarrassing moments (his involves a high school talent show and a failed magic trick).

Painfully boring and basic people. I just know this girl is a Taylor Swift fan.

She’s wearing a raven-black wig, bright red lipstick and a tight, revealing black dress I’ve never seen before. What the fuck?

Le gasp! Is she turning into her bad persona, Chlo?!

She applies jewelry I’ve never seen before either. It’s a choker . . . no . . . it’s a collar.

Oh course she’s wearing a collar.

The username makes my blood run cold: WinterWatcher.

Oh fuck off. 😂

How many days is normal to wait for a text after a date?

Girl it’s 2025. Text him yourself.

But there it is—a moment where the camera slipped, and the lighting is just right, revealing more of my features than I ever intended.

Girlypop a lace mask is hardly a disguise that hides your features.