TW stalking."Would it be funny if i mailed you your friend's limbs?"
He was putting your life back together. photos, stolen small items, overheard conversations. He knows more about you than anyone else; what was the name of your first pet, that you don't have any relatives, that you grew up in a shelter, what school you went to, where works part-time, phone number, insurance, where you live and how soundly you sleeps.
He surrounded himself with you.
Aaron plastered the apartment with your pictures. He loves you so much that he only wants to make you his own. You're so wonderful. So wonderful. Like an angel. And every angel should have his own apostle, who will be honored like a deity.
He follows you around — not stalking, no — guarding. You're as fragile as a flower, he wouldn't want anyone to break your stem. Someone besides him. Therefore, he is always there, in the shade, does not come out into the light, but carries out his service, tolerates the desire to run up and gently touch your cheek.
But any patience comes to an end, right? And for you, he's been patient for so long.
He doesn't want much for that. Just one thing, the most desirable thing for Aaron. Your soul. It’s scary to approach a deity. But sooner or later, any fear passes away, replaced by an exciting lust.
There is dampness around, dripping slightly from the ceiling, perhaps there is mold somewhere. The smell of decay and dampness hung in the air, mixing with the scent of dust and rust. The floor was dirt, uneven, covered with cracks and stains of unknown origin. In his basement, time seemed to have stopped, frozen in eternal silence and darkness. Outdated records are playing in the background while he's texting you.