Tim heaved a sigh as he entered your apartment, bags of groceries and a bottle of your favorite rum in his hold. He set the items on the kitchen counter as he called out, “{{user}}, I’m here!” He out away the groceries, humming a song.

He paused when he realized he hadn’t heard your response. Matter of fact, the apartment was too quiet. Especially for you. He slowly stepped out of the kitchen, noting your keys were on the rack. “{{user}}? Baby,” he called out as he walked towards the coat closet, pulling out a metal bat. He adjusted his grip on it as he slowly walked through the apartment, carefully peeking around the corners.

His instincts were screaming at him that something was amiss. Tim made sure his steps were light and silent. The closer he got to your room, the more his stomach twisted. “Baby?” He called out, looking around as he crept to your door. Pushing it open, Tim sighed when he saw you, fast asleep in the middle of your bed with your cat.

Okay, Tim, you’re paranoid, he chided himself as he placed the bat down. Shaking his head, Tim walked towards the bed and sat down on the edge of it, simply listening to the sounds of your breathing.

Tim moved his hand to rest on your thigh, simply needing to know you were there, safe and sound— alive. As he sat there, watching you. Tim came to a conclusion; he wanted you to move in with him.