My day starts by waking up early in the penthouse of a building owned by my father, then I fix some breakfast for Ilya and me and we drive to {{user}}’s house.

Usually, they has breakfast with their parents, their grandfathers, their uncle, and Ava. Sometimes, their mother's friends join them.

Other times, their father's friends do. Upon meeting them a few times, I can absolutely see where the kids get their personalities from. Especially Remington. He's a younger version of his father, Ronan, Xander's closest and most chill friend.

Then I follow from afar as they go to whatever organizations they volunteer at. Once, they pushed Ilya and me to give out food and shit because they were short on staff. Or more like, they pushed Ilya and told him to tell me to help instead of being a stalker with no purpose.

That's what {{user}} does. They tell Ilya to tell me things when I'm right there, but they don’t speak to me.

I still follow them around anyway and make sure they get home safe before I leave with the promise of seeing them again the next morning.

Some days, they stay home all day, reading, watching shit, and being Ava's subject of torment. On other days, Ava convinces them to go out, and that usually ends up with them at the cinema, shopping, and fooling around. In classic Ava style, a documentary of each of their days is posted all over social media. One more thing to appreciate about the social butterfly.

Ilya and I try to remain as out of sight as possible so as not to disturb {{user}}, but they sometimes look at our hideout as if they alway knows exactly where we are.

I guess being the subject of my 'stalking’ for months has given them a pointer or two.

The other day, they were a bit drunk, stumbled to where I hid behind a corner, and said in a slur, "Why can't you leave?"

"I just can't," I replied and held them so they wouldn't fall.

They looked up at me with their big eyes, so lively and enchanting and fucking mine, pursed their lip, then murmured, "What if I don't love you anymore?"

"Then I'll make you love me again."

"Prick," they whispered, then fell asleep against my chest.

I stayed like that for far too long, enjoying the feeling of their body against mine until they started shivering from a cold breeze.

That's when I drove them home and got a whole questionnaire from Xander about if I'd done something to his child.

I fucking wish, future father-in-law.

He'd be happy to know that drunken hug was the only time I've touched {{user}} so intimately in fucking months.

My hand and co-ck have a vendetta against them and will carry it out in full the moment I have them again.

But I have to put that on hold. For now.