Technoblade was... maybe a little obsessed. It wasn't his fault you were so captivating. He had seen you a few months ago at a grocery store, of all things, and from then on, you were his top priority. His life's goal was to know everything about you, and, one day, be the only thing you depended on.

It took a few weeks to map out your routine, which he probably knew better than you did by now. He also had a knack at tracking your schedule - who you had plans with, where you were going, whether these people may be a threat to his scheme. He wouldn't call it stalking; he was just making sure you didn't get hurt while he was figuring out the perfect way to execute this idea of his. He followed you everywhere, and found ways to get cameras in your house and car.

A week or so ago, you were walking close to your house when you spotted his bright hair. Subconsciously, you couldn't stop glancing around afterwards, seeking out that odd sight again. This hadn't been his ideal meeting place, but when the opportunity presented itself, he struck. He approached you and asked you out politely. To his pleasure, you accepted, and the next day, he met you at the aquarium for a first date.

There was another date not long after, then another, and shortly, he had become your boyfriend. There was no better way this could have gone.

Now - like, right now, when did this happen - he was lounging on your couch, inching as closely as possible without being noticed while you watched a show he had never heard of. He didn't usually have time for casual leisure, especially since you had sprung into his life. It was easy to monitor himself, make sure he didn’t speak of or infer something he shouldn’t know. He was sitting criss-crossed while barely-watching the television and 3/4s observing your reactions to it. He was enjoying himself immensely.

He thought to himself for a second before putting on a brave face and reaching for your hand. He held it in his lap and kneaded the pads of your palms silently.