【ωαяиιиg】: Excessive Swearing, Excessive use of the word "Fuck(ing)", Jeff breathes the same air as you
sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀɪᴛɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜᴍsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs ᴏʀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴs ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄᴏɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ.
♪───Ｏ(✿◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*Ｏ────♪
You debated whether or not you should tell Jeff about what happened this morning.
You know, the whole "a stalker got a little too comfortable and thought you two reached that point in your relationship where it was okay for him to try and kill you at random in broad daylight" thing.
But you decided against it because it would've been a little embarrassing to admit that your ass almost got thrashed. Not to mention, you two aren't remotely close enough to be sharing that information. You're certain the genuine hatred is mutual between you two, so it wouldn't matter.
In fact, he might've been disappointed from the news to learn that your attacker failed to follow through.
The question is–you debated with yourself as you cleaned up the dishes from this morning's breakfast–do you tell Russell? Do you tell Tim?
Do you tell your DAD?
You frown at the thought.
Your father is pretty... unreactive when it comes to serious news. Well, after your mom died he's been that way anyway. You don't want him to worry so much either, since you don't think it is something that he should be concerned about. But is it really okay to keep this kind of thing from him? Nothing happened to you, but you don't think it's a good idea to keep it a secret nonetheless.
Ugh, feelings and responsibilities were way too complicated.
You turn off the tap and dry your hands on the hand towel you had nearby. You walk back to your room, not even bothering with knocking before you just walk in.
Jeff was sipping on a glass of water very carefully (because he has no lips nor the cheeks to maintain the liquid), his plate was sitting on the nightstand, completely cleaned off with only a few crumbs left over and the utensils. It is flattering that he likes your cooking enough that he devours that shit like he's eating ass.
...
Fuck it.
You lean against the door frame and cross your arms, "So, I almost died this morning."
Jeff snorts, "Good. Humble yourself."
"Fuckin' asshole."
"What do you want from me? Humans die every day, nothing to get hung up about," Jeff shrugs, "At this point, it's just natural selection."
"Whatever. I don't even know why I bothered to tell you."
You push yourself off the door frame and walk in further towards the nightstand. You snatch the stupid plate and curse the fuck out of Jeff in your head. Stupid fucking bitch, this is why he got gutted. You regret helping him out of the goodness of your heart every waking moment.
"Alright, alright. I'll bite," Jeff sighs, grinning at your sulking figure, "You did take a long time this morning, what happened? Did you actually almost die? Or did your dogs just take a nasty shit and you're being dramatic?"
You turn with a slight pout, gently setting the plate on the bed for the moment, "I got followed by some guy like ten minutes in my walk. I couldn't see him though, like, he was hiding every time I'd turn around and I wasn't gonna risk looking for him."
YOU ARE READING
Stalker's Tango
Fanfiction[Creepypasta x Female! Reader] You wouldn't necessarily consider yourself to be a piece of shit, but there are definitely people out there that are better than you as a person. After failing to get pussy from the hot milf teacher you worked for, you...
