On-call with your friend, you raved his ear off about your usual problems: work, life, and the constant impression of being watched. As ever, he assured it was merely your profound sense of paranoia— and persuaded by the said verdict, you shortly bid Ajax adieu, ending the call.

A quick flash from the window, so abrupt you never noticed, too busy altering into your pajamas.

Ajax chuckled as his eyes grazed the image he took from your bedroom window, grinning like the sick fool he was.