{Highest Rankings: #1 in Bill Skarsgard & Pennywise}
[COMPLETED]
"He's a mystery, but with a mystery comes the unknown."
She thought he was an imaginary friend from her childhood. When he kidnaps her years later, she realizes she was dead wrong.
➢...
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I hadn't dreamt at all since he showed up. I slept peacefully and quietly, which is unusual for me. I felt protected for the first time in a while, and just the thought of having someone to look after me made me feel secure. He wasn't a monster to me. He was completely normal. Maybe he was the one who could see the monsters around him; he was the man who could see the monsters.
My eyes opened slowly at first, right until I got used to the sun shining in from my window. The light coming in hit my skin, making me feel warmer than it was in my room; it was freezing. It looked as if it were late in the afternoon. It was already Saturday morning, and I had most likely slept in for the first time in a long time. I was never a night owl, but then again, I was never a morning person either.
Once I could feel fully awake, I lifted my head slightly, my eyes coming in contact with his green ones. He was already awake, and it didn't take me by much of a surprise. He was already looking at me, a small smile on his lips as his arms were displayed around me, keeping me in a stronghold.
"And she awoke," He whispered, his lips parting as he looked down at mine. His voice was soft. He looked as if he were a prince, or maybe a fictional character designed for everyone to fall in love with. "For all that glitters is not gold."
My breath shook. I wasn't scared, I was far from scared. I was nervous- that I couldn't keep myself from falling in love with him. I knew it was too late. I sat up to where our faces came closer together and looked him in the eyes. I smiled a genuine smile, my cheeks heating up as he watched me in amusement.
"Who knew you could ever love Shakespeare," I told him, holding my breath as I waited for his response. I tried my best to hold in my excitement. He stayed with me through the night. I hoped to think that this could happen more often.
He looked in my eyes, smiling softly. Could he tell I was nervous?
"I'm a monster, and you're surprised I know Shakespeare?" He chuckled, his hand making contact with the lower part of my back. It was comforting and warm, though I didn't need any of this. He was too good for me, maybe even a little too perfect.
"Why are you here?" I questioned him. I didn't want to come rude, and when I realized I had said this, I immediately regretted it. "I mean," I tried to take back my words. He shifted in his spot, blinking, and looked down at his torso.
"I come when I'm needed." He responded. His eyes fixed onto mine.
I couldn't comprehend what he meant. I always needed him, yet he never showed up. I remained by myself every night, hoping that he'd come through my bedroom window and talk to me until I fell asleep. It's my most vulnerable moments when I needed him.
I didn't respond. I only looked towards my floor, zoning myself out as I felt his eyes on me. His presence felt comforting, but his stare made me feel as if I was in the phantom of the devil. He didn't radiate off this feeling that he was dangerous, but for some reason, I felt it.
