It's All in Your Head

Watchful Eyes

•Y/N: Your Name
•H/L: Hair Length

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Boogeyman's POV:
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My white eyes stare down at the unconscious figure sleeping soundly on the bed in front of me. Beneath the warm blanket, I can see their chest rise and fall with each soft breath that escapes their lips. Y/N sleeps in a fetal position, which isn't unusual for the young female. I find her in this position often when I'm not the one to put her to rest. A couple weeks have passed since I've decided to keep my distance from her.

Though I've taken a break, I haven't completely gone away. I still watch diligently from the shadows while keeping my presence secret from her senses. Even though I'm taking a vacation from her lovely shrieking screams, I still find myself doing this every night, just watching. Nothing more. It feels like habit, and I figured I'd eventually grow bored of doing this and, in doing so, I'd get my motivation back, but that isn't the case at all. I can stare at her for hours even when nothing happens.

I feel like it's because I've been here for so long now. I've never kept a victim for this long, and, since I'm always here by her side, I find it hard to leave. It's almost like this is my second home. I reach out my clawed hand towards the female's face and take a lock of her soft hair between my black fingers. I twirl the H/L strand to keep myself entertained as I take a seat on the edge of the bed, beside her.

Oh, how tempted I am to slip into that little mind of hers to wreak havoc, but this, this kept me content. My mouse seems to be peaceful, and that's rather dull if you ask me, but I just can't seem to get in the mood. No fresh ideas of haunting nightmares to scar her forever have come to me. I feel as though I have a horrible case of writers block, so I'll try to be patient and wait. For the moment, I'll revel in her her soft, H/C locks. It's such a lovely color and is styled to suit her pale features well. She brushes it every night before bed, so no tangles get in my path as I rake my nimble fingers through the strands. My mouse has grown into such a pretty creature, even with all that I've put her through. A small smile graces her lips, catching my eye, as her left hand grips the sheets, though, not in fear.

'She must be having a pleasant dream,' I note. Though I've left my victim alone for quite some time now, I've still kept tabs on her mental activities at night. The girl hasn't had a single dream, only slept in blissful darkness until morning. This would mean that this is her first good dream since we've met all those years ago. I tense on instinct when the teen shifts and stretches out her arms.

The cold black liquid covering my bones doesn't seem to disturb her as she rests her cheek on my palm while snaking her arms around mine tightly. I didn't stiffen because of her movement, but from her touch. I stare down at her in shock, unsure of how to react to the action. Never before have I been so willing touched by someone, let alone a person I've tormented. Her dream surely is the cause of it, yet seeing that smile on her face as she held onto me... It caused something inside my chest to stir.

I pull away the hand I used to play with her hair and, instead, prop it under me as I lean towards her to be more comfortable in her hold. I don't want to pull away. It's rare to receive any sort of affection when you're a beast like me who takes pleasure in the pain of others. I'm curious to know what she's dreaming. What can be so pleasant to make her do this?

After all, I've destroyed most everything good about the things she likes, from things as small as teddy bears to things as large as giraffes, which was once her favorite animal. A sadistic grin comes to my face upon recalling that certain nightmare. I had made the peaceful creature trample her and swallow her whole, where she had to escape its acidic stomach. The horrified sounds she made as her flesh deteriorated were just delightful. I decided to peek in, desiring to know what she likes so much.