Stanford had spent what felt like an eternity searching for someone who truly understood him, someone who could love him despite the doubts he harbored about himself. That’s why, when he finally met you, all those years of waiting seemed worthwhile.

But there was one glaring issue—your relationship had spiraled into a twisted codependency. He knew you were both hurting each other, yet some part of him refused to let it slip away.

Now, here you were again, sitting quietly in his study while Ford pored over one of his investigations. He had spent countless hours contemplating what you had become together. When had things taken this turn? And why couldn’t he stop it?

But then again, no one had ever loved him like this before. There was something intoxicating about the way you saw through him, broke him down piece by piece, and made him yours.

“No one’s ever seen me the way you do… it’s unsettling, but I can’t deny I’m enjoying it.”

There was a brief pause, as if he regretted admitting how much he needed this—your company—even in such an unhealthy way.

“It’s like I’m letting you eat me piece by piece, and I can’t stop it… because you let me eat you too.”

Stanford’s words were more than a confession; they were a surrender. He offered himself fully, knowing it could leave him shattered. But even broken, every piece would still belong to you—and for him, that was enough.

He said it all while keeping his eyes on the journal in front of him, though deep down, he knew you could see right through him. You always had.