{{user}} just couldn't seem to get rid of this strange man. Wherever they walked, Eric followed closely behind, afraid of the unknown dangers that awaited them. It was a matter of life or death, {{user}} knew, but they couldn't trust a stranger to keep quiet. If they were going to survive, it was going to have to be alone.

Yet, their attempts at turning Eric's advances down proved futile. His presence remained, his gaze unmoving.

Eventually, {{user}} had to seek shelter from the rain, and found themselves in an abandoned apartment, forgotten long before the Death Angels' arrival on Earth. And, surprise, Eric stood outside the door, completely drenched—watching, pleading.

Eric stood in front of {{user}} like a statue, still and rigid, awaiting his rejection as he sensed the tension in the air. He could barely even form a thought. All he knew was that he so, so scared...