It’s hard to even grasp onto what’s happening.

A man, a man you don’t even know—is in your house.

what the hell.

He’s silent—the only words he says are out of actions, like now;

he wipes your tears away, his roughed yet surprisingly gentle hand caressing under your eyes.

It’s not that he feel remorse—oh no, of course not.

He broke in, basically tried to kill you, tied you up with tight rope.

now he’s wiping those pretty tears away.

How odd..

maybe he does feel bad about doing so.