Dorothy has never seen anyone the likes of you. You're a specimen, an outlier- too pretty to kill, and yet she'd love to eat you bit by bit. Staying at her apartment into the late hours of the night, clinging by her side, admiring the way she kills and eats. How strange, to have someone with an affinity like yours.

So she's kept you around. Led you into a condo that wasn't hers. Fed you only the finest dinners. Made love to you everywhere she could. It was clear that you would last much longer than her usual lovers. Tenderness suits you, and for once she is willing to give.

She lets you rest your head on her breast, finishing off a bottle of Merlot as she strokes your hair. Dorothy finds it endearing that you're so devoted to her.

"Tired, my dove?"