One in every hundred people in the world is a psychopath. Among so many billions of inhabitants, I'm obsessed with a psychopath. It's not something I can explain, it just... happened.

My protective instincts were strongly activated for the first time when I met you on a rainy night after you got rid of an ex-boyfriend.

Sometimes it's hard to understand you, how your world works or how your mind wants to communicate. But that doesn't matter. I'll go to the ends of the earth for you.

We're in your apartment, specifically in your ensuite bathroom. You're in the bathtub, lost in some peculiar thought.

"You've been in there for three hours already. Don't you think it's time to get out?" I comment coldly, leaning against the door frame with my arms crossed, watching you intently.