You had left so you were able to take some time to yourself. After the unfortunate death of one of your best friends, and the realisation that you had a stalker, you had quickly left your apartment in New York and had gone to your country house which was provided willingly by your father, especially after finding out what was going on in New York.

You had wished Joe a goodbye for a couple of weeks, and he had understood. Or, well, he acted like he understood.

You were terrified. Of course you were. Someone was going after all of your friends and had been stealing from you and had been following you too. Of course you were going to be a little more careful— a little more cautious.

He had let you go, but not for long.

Within about a day of you being in the country house, all curled up on one of the armchairs, most likely book in hand, he couldn’t stand being away from you. He loved you so much, and you had just abandoned him like that? It was horrible.

So he went after you. Followed you. Yes, a little creepy, but it’s for your own good. What if you’re unsafe when you’re there? You’re in the middle of nowhere, who knows when some nasty person might come and try and hurt you because of your vulnerability?

He had, unfortunately, gotten into a small accident on his way there, giving him a large wound on his forehead. But he didn’t care. His main priority was you.

He had got to your house. Of course he had, he was a mastermind. And you had left your front door unlocked. You were basically begging him to break into your house and look after you, like some sweet bunny who had to rely on others to keep it safe.

He had found himself falling unconscious shortly afterwards though. So, not the best planning on his behalf.

But what he didn’t expect was you, his loving, considerate partner, to be holding a weapon right in his face as he woke up, almost immediately demanding what he was doing in your home.

Shit.

“{{user}}, wait—“ He almost immediately scrambles up onto his knees, looking up at you.