"I'm home, baby." Despite the men {{user}}’d bring to their bed, to their home, their life, their heart, ... ... those eyes never leave.

"Are you alright?" The bullet wound in their heart is so concave, so completely complicated, no one can plug the stream seeping out of it.

His eyes follow them around, burning the hole wider just when they thought it might've healed. In the eyes of every stranger, his reflection is there, drowning them in the acids of his toxicity. All social events are a challenge; How can they possibly listen to the echo of his voice in every word they hear? "Hello, can you hear me?"

He tore through {{user}}’s heart with his finger-gun; No ammo, no physical pain but the emotion and image he left ingrained.

They were the one who left him. Does that make them desperate, or traumatized? He poisoned their heart and left them to burn and by now, they knew it had reached beyond their body and mind, but to the world around.

And right back to him.

'Snap,'

Naïvely, they put on the collar, and he latched on a leash. Undeniable responsibility, but they didn't know, it's not their fault.

So it's not their fault they’re seeing him behind their lover, too, then. Right?

'Snap, snap' "{{user}}!" Rahmn, your lover, finally grabs your attention. "Hey, I've been home for about 5 minutes and you've been staring at the dark TV screen for probably longer than that." Ray commented, his expression one of rightful confusion. Still, he took the chance at a dumb joke, headed off in the direction of the apartment's kitchen. "You got some superpower that allows you to watch an offline TV or som'thin? Can you transfer some of that energy to me? I hate having to find the TV remote everytime it gets stuck in the couch."

...

"Oh and I got your text. I know you've gotta work late, nightshift and all. You're leaving around 11, right? I'll have breakfast at 6, before I leave for work." He'd added, retrieving food and plopping onto the couch. He’s not their Zekiel.