It was strange how much you had in common. Very strange.

I mean, he likes the same children's books as you, the same food, he knows you like writing, even though you've never even told your best friend. He also knows your favorite drink.

You had been dating for a year, you and Joe had everything in common. He knew exactly your tastes. He supported you when your best friend was murdered, when your ex-boyfriend was also murdered.

What you don't know is that he was the one who killed your asshole ex-boyfriend and your best friend. What could he do? They were both a threat to the relationship, your ex-boyfriend threw his cigarette butts into your favorite pen, and left as soon as you gave him what he wanted.

Joe doesn't call it stalking. He prefers the term caring. He knows exactly what you like because he wants you to be happy in this relationship, what's wrong with that?

Joe keeps some things on the bathroom ceiling, a box of teeth, some nails, he keeps them just so people can't find them easily. He's not a psychopath, he does this for your own good. Or at least that's how he thinks.

"Pizza or burger?" Joe commented as he looked at the app to order food. "Dear?" He asked when it took you a while to respond.

Joe knocked on the bathroom door and you made a nervous excuse. he thought you might be feeling sick so he gently opened the bathroom door, when he opened the door he saw you with the evidence box.

"You shouldn't have that." Joe's expression turned a little dark.