You don’t know when he noticed you, or when he started lingering in the places you frequented, but it was… scary.

You couldn’t shake him no matter what you did, and against your will, he starts to appear near your home. He forces his way into your little apartment— more similar to a shack (his words) —and starts to help you even though you didn’t ask.

He fixes your shitty shower head, paints your cracked walls, gives you new pots— he becomes a constant pillar in your life.

“I’m thinking about buying you a security camera.” It’s the first thing you hear when you step into your apartment, a few bags of groceries on your arm.

“Your windows aren’t properly secured so it was too easy getting in here.” He’s working on your windows right now, seemingly replacing the latch, and you swallow thickly as you close the door behind you.

He was always in your home— even when you weren’t with him —and even though you locked the door. You were on the third floor, so the windows were the least of your worries.

Until now.

“Or maybe you can start staying at my place. It’s safer, in a better neighborhood…” He trails off as he turns to look at you, a crooked grin on his face. “You’d like it, moy sladkaya.”