The Witch, The Author, and The Collector. (LilithxReader)

Prologue

The room was dimly lit by the sunlight leaking through the curtains, the living room of this one story cottage style home was a wreck. Papers scattered across the coffee table, couch a mangled mess of blankets and pillows, take-out boxes stacked on the floor as Y/n groaned and yawned walking through the neglected living room into a neglected into a oddly pristine kitchen, argo a kitchen never used.

He poured himself a glass of water and two, no three, Tylenol tablets for breakfast. Afterwards he grabbed his phone off the charger and to review the six voice mails, twenty or so unread texts, and a slew of angry unanswered emails. He just groaned again and put the speaker on as he flopped on the blanket cocoon.

Freckles: Heeeyyy Y/n-pie it's me again, I noticed you didn't reply to any of my messages-

Y/n pressed skip and pulled the blanket over his face awaiting the next voicemail.

Freckles: I think your phone might be broken or maybe it hasn't been catching my voicemails-

He skipped her again.

Freckles: Hey Y/n-pie-

He slapped the phone with a pillow to skip this time, a flutter of papers come up as he rolls over.

???: Good day, this is Kyle calling about a grand prize you were entered in...

This time the voice was male-ish, awkward and they sounded sickly almost.

Freckles: You are the proud winner of a couple's DINNER FOR OUR SECOND DATE ANNIVERSARY!

The male voice quickly changed back to that annoying princess-y voice as Freckles dropped the act.

Freckles: You. Me. Valentines day. Dinner at-

Y/n didn't even hesitate to skip her again.

Freckles: Fine! FINE! I see how it is, Mr. Big time writer is tooooo good to be seen with someone like meeeee, well enjoy your shallow, dark, miserable, lonely, cold, bitter life BY. YOUR. SELF! *Slam*

The ending where he could hear he phone hit the table was better the any Christmas gift he'd gotten in... it's been a few years since he received a gift... or celebrated Christmas with anyone besides a tree and Jim Carrey's How the Grinch stole Christmas on Blu ray.

This was the first and last time he would happily move on to the next voicemail.

Freckle: Wow our first fight but we are stronger because of it-

Y/N: NOOOOOOOO!

With that tribulation aside he turned to confront his emails, all of which were his publisher asking about new book ideas, possible deadlines, interviews, and sales meetings. He closed his emails and opened his phone to the background of himself with his parents, they look quite happy and in better health then the reflection of his black screen revealed.

Y/N: Ugh... They wouldn't want me slowly dying in this house of misery that I have built...

He says that but sits there staring at the ceiling for another ten minutes just listening to the traffic pass outside, he eventually rolled off the couch and grabbed the cleanest hoodie off the coat hook, grabbing a soda from the fridge he stepped out onto the porch and sat in the lawn chair.

His house is this cottage straight out of the 90's with pale yellow walls and a old shingle roof, a garage built out of the side with a few plastic flamingos decorating the lawn out front. He slouched in the chair watching people and cars go by about their days completely unaware of the man on the porch hating them all.