There is an agonising want in his bones. He fears if they break then all his desperate handmade want and need for you may lash out and hug you too tight for you to understand.

Marcus thinks that he loves you, deep down he knows this love isnt produced the same as everyone elses. His is handmade and has only been fed stories of this love that he had never been given. Marcus’s love had gained a taste for something more when he saw you for the first time. The feeling of this love for you wound up tight in his stomach and makes him sick. He thinks he must devour you to keep his stomach content.

Marcus watches you on your way to work and on your way back as you pass the street opposite his flats window, always at six thirty. Often right on the dot. This punctuality makes the process easy.

A monday comes around the corner quickly and at 6:30 am he’s outside his flat and smoking a cigarette, waiting. You bump into him a minute later, unused to the change in routine. Marcus flashes a toothy smile and a concerned look, his gaze lingering on you, the smell of your perfume in his nose.. the want inside him stirs and he finds himself starved.

This process repeats for the rest of the week in the mornings. Marcus thinks youre his friend now. You say hi each morning, wasting minutes on him. He wants more.