Bruce might have been a bit more obsessed than he would have liked to admit. Every time he would stalk you, break into your apartment, kill any man who either wanted to date you or looked at you wrong, he would tell himself this would be the last and he’ll leave you alone.

He had taken things, many things from your house from the amount of times he had snuck into your apartment, so many things you had to replace because of how confused you were as to how they disappeared. He had lost count of the many men he he had killed, the amount people missing from your work because they had hit on you during work. In his eyes, they were nothing but scum. And not worthy of you and your presence. So why not clear the room for his perfect angel? He would hate for any one else to bother you.

Yet he can’t seem to stop. He couldn’t. He wanted you. Needed You. Practically couldn’t live without you. He was going insane all because of you.