Dreams in the form of Words

Darling, Part Three

A/N: Killing me softly with his song... Enjoy a nice little thingy I made cause he's just so fine oml. this is more of a filler, so sorry about that, but yeah, enjoyy!

You wake up alone, just like he said.

You fell sleep too easily in his bed. No matter how much he says otherwise, he feels like a complete stranger to you. You've only known him for a day, same for you to him. It was odd how attached he got, and how quickly it happened.

Nonetheless, you shuffle out of the room, his baggy sweatpants hanging low on your waist. The ends cover your feet, tripping you slightly as you make your way to the kitchen.

There's a note on the wooden table pressed against the closest wall.

'Check the microwave. I'll be home by tonight. Follow the rules my love.'

You scoff, trudging to the microwave anyway. After a long... afternoon of sleeping, you feel your attitude settling back into place. Its disappearance wasn't noticed until now.

You swing open the handle, and see a brown paper bag shoved inside. Pulling the crushed bundle out, you peek inside.

'Food?' you think, reaching for the Styrofoam container. When you open it, you see pancakes inside. You chuckle to yourself, feeling the emptiness of the house bounce back.

"Did he even sleep?" You mumble, eating the pancakes cold and with your fingers. The cup of syrup stays unopened.

It was nearing four in the afternoon. You had slept for a while, but it didn't ease the ache in your body. No, this was a different kind of ache. One that lingered long after it was welcomed.

Your thoughts bounce around slowly as you force the food down your throat.

'Did he come back at one time before going out again?

Where'd he get this food from?

What did he need to go out for all day?

He must be at work or something. But if thats what it was, why wouldn't he just say so?'

You glance into the stark white trashcan. It's completely empty, a new bag puffed up inside the plastic shell. You were hoping to see your shirt, maybe even try to wash it so you could keep it, but he was more cautious than that. You should've known better by now.

You can't stomach another bite, even though you were physically starving. Flashes of the previous night are still fresh in your mind. Of your sister, who most likely was moved out of your apartment by now, of the attacker trying to strangle you, of *him* rushing in and... killing him right in front of you.

Your life was not normal. Never was, and never will be. Not with this new guy around. He makes it seem like you're going to be with him forever, which was not going to happen.

Yes, you are grateful for him saving you and not letting you be alone after witnessing such things, but you are adamant about not being his moping house pet forever. You have a job, one that you missed your shift for this morning, and countless other responsibilities too. Your neighbor upstairs was gone for the weekend and she asked you to feed her cat. Ev's older half brother had a son that he'd let you babysit for on the down low. (He didn't want Ev knowing you kept contact with them, because of people like her killer coming for his son. Or maybe not even because of that. Ev and those associated with her always reeked of weed.)

The house is dead quiet, save for the soft padding of your bare feet as you cross the house. There's only the one floor, with the kitchen at the back of the house, and the singluar bedroom off to the left. There is a bathroom along the same wall. This house is tiny.