Rody couldn't quite place the strange tension that had settled in his chest for weeks. For ten years, he and Vincent had been inseparable-high school sweethearts who had grown into adults, their lives intertwined like the roots of old trees. They were happy, they always had been, and any arguments they had were over the little things-laundry, misplaced keys, or Rody forgetting to buy lemons, Vincent's favorite.
Their love was steady and true. Even when they fought, they always found their way back to each other. But recently, something had changed, something Rody couldn't explain.
It started a few months ago when Rody had gone to the forest to collect seasonal mushrooms-Vincent's favorite, another peace offering after a minor spat. The argument had been trivial, something about Rody tracking dirt into the house. As always, Rody decided to make it up to Vincent in the best way he knew: bringing home ingredients for one of his gourmet meals.
In the woods, though, he'd felt... watched. At the time, he dismissed it as his imagination, the eerie quiet of the trees playing tricks on his mind. But when he returned home, something had changed.
Vincent had been unusually cheerful that night. No tension. No lingering frustration. Just Vincent, smiling and waiting for Rody to come through the door, a warm bowl of stew already waiting for him. The food tasted incredible, the meat sweeter than usual, but Rody thought nothing of it. Vincent was a master chef, always experimenting, always surprising him.
And after that night, the arguments stopped.
### **The Perfect Days**
The next few weeks felt like a dream. Vincent was happier than ever, cooking new and elaborate meals every evening, doting on Rody in ways he hadn't before. There were no more fights, no more moments of exasperation. It was as if the little things that used to spark disagreements had vanished. Vincent was always calm, always watching Rody with a smile that seemed... too perfect.
Rody tried to convince himself this was good-this was what he'd always wanted. But there was an undercurrent of unease beneath the surface of their perfect days. Vincent wasn't just happy; he was too happy. It felt unnatural, forced in a way that set Rody on edge. And there was something off about the way he watched Rody, his gaze lingering just a bit too long, his touch a bit too cold.
But Rody told himself it was nothing. Vincent loved him-he had for ten years. Maybe Vincent was just going through something, a phase, a new way of expressing his affection. They hadn't argued in so long. He should be grateful.
Still, the feeling of being watched from that day in the woods lingered. It felt like the shadows had followed him home.
### **The Discovery**
The night it all fell apart was like any other. Rody sat at the dinner table, another bowl of Vincent's stew in front of him. The smell was intoxicating, rich and savory, with that familiar sweet undertone that Vincent had perfected over the past weeks. Rody lifted the spoon to his lips, the meat melting on his tongue, the warmth filling his chest.
But as he ate, his spoon caught on something hard at the bottom of the bowl. At first, he thought it was just a bone, maybe an odd cut Vincent hadn't removed. But as he lifted the spoon, his heart stuttered.
An eyeball.
Rody's breath caught in his throat. It was unmistakable. He recognized it. That dark, almost black iris, the slight asymmetry he had come to love in Vincent's gaze. His mind refused to process it at first. It couldn't be-Vincent was right there, standing by the stove, watching him with that same, too-perfect smile.
But the eye on his spoon told him otherwise.
I see! Let me adjust the ending to something that might suit your preferences better.
