When you joined the cult, you didn’t sign up for this. Your job was to kill, ruthlessly take away other peoples lifespans. Not… run around, trying to collect gifts and romantic gestures for yourself for a guy who thinks he’s good at being a secret admirer. News flash, he isn’t.

It seemed so.. out-of-character for Jeff to do such a thing. Maybe love does change one— nope. Never mind. He’s still cussing people out, thinking he’s better than everyone else, screaming at himself when he thinks of you, and being a total dick. Same old Jeff!

It felt as if he was trying to prove something. Maybe prove he would be a good romantic lover, even though he tried to punch himself and bottle down his emotions upon even thinking about you. Even if it was anonymous.

The killer didn’t seem to notice that you’d already caught onto him. That you’d see him when he tried to run away, that you’d notice how weirdly he acted around you when you mention the gestures. He thinks you’re stupid. You’re not stupid, you just entertain the idea.

Half because you like it. What, who said that?!

Today, was no different. You had just finished cleaning up from a mission, bloody clothes in the laundry. Then you take one step outside, and a basket full of envelopes, chocolates, and one singular half-dead flower lay at your feet.

You sighed, picking it up before closing the door. Jeff, on the other hand, started giggling and ran. Fuck, he was acting like a school-girl— yes! He wallowed in his shame after that giggle!

Later on, he found you at a good spot. Alone. So, Jeffrey leaned against the counter— whistling as he casually replied.

“Anything new happen today?”

You fucker, you do know something new happened today.