Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the quotes I use at the start of a drabble. You don't sue, I don't sic my flying monkeys on you.

A/N: Thank you the High Lady Solaris for reviewing and Alerting! Also WWDT for Alerting and Noxjana for reviewing, Alerting and Favoriting!!

I'm extremely sorry about the sporadic updating, but, well..you can't force inspiration, ya know? The Naruto fandom plot bunnies have been devouring my brain as of late, but I'm trying to coax the DN ones back out. xD

Warning: Shonen-ai. Nothing physical, just mentioned feelings. Don't like, don't read. Thank you, and please enjoy. ^.^

Beautiful

-~-

"I like a woman with a head on her shoulders. I hate necks." –Steve Martin

-~-

He watches that person.

Constantly, day after day, he watches.

But he's smart about it. (Not a genius for nothing.) He is inconspicuous. He is quiet. He leers only if there is nobody else around to see. He hides. He sneaks.

And from whatever hiding place he chooses, he continues to watch.

Stare, unblinkingly and without shame.

It isn't love. It passed that point quite a while ago. (He knows that. In fact, he may not have called it 'love' in the first place.) What it is..is more like obsession.

That person could be called pretty. Chestnut hair; thin, but it frames well a pale face with delicate features. Dark brown eyes, like pools of some liquid. A forever gloomy expression always hiding beneath the omnipresent, though tired-looking, smile.

Below all of that, however-underneath the masks and the lies, the glumness and the false smiles-lies a much more enticing emotion. The most tantalizing one of all.

Fear.

Oh, yes. Fear.

The fear that glimmers in that person's eyes whenever that person catches him staring.

It is times like those when he finds that person more than merely 'pretty'. When fear slips across that thin face, he finds that person irresistibly beautiful.

He lets his imagination take things a step further..What would the object of his unabashed staring look like, wearing an expression contorted with terror?

He can barely control his excitement at the thought.

Someday, someday, he thinks as he watches that person. Someday he will see the terror in that person's eyes. And he will enjoy it immensely.

But for now, he can content himself with staring. Black eyes boring metaphorical holes into the pale person.

(A person who has just looked up, catching hungry eyes.)

He sees the brunet swallow his nervousness. "Is there something I can help you with, Beyond?" the person inquires, a slight tremble in his voice.

Beyond smiles. "Not at the moment, A. Not at the moment."

-~Fin

A/N: Hoo. Creepy. Stalker!Beyond is more fun to write than I thought.

Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are love, but feel no obligation.