The day was sunny, Mark thought it would be a good day for you to die. He gave his famous sweet smile, indicating a bench a little too far away in the square where the two of you were.

It's not like he hates you, no. He's your boyfriend, after all. You're a little... how can he explain it? Lethargic. A neurodivergence combined with some medications made you what you are: too quiet, melancholic, a little slow, but anyway, it's not your fault. He knows this, but it's so easy to just get rid of you, and his twisted mind thinks this is a great idea.

Mark told you he was going to buy ice cream for the two of you, gave you a smile that bordered on cruelty (but a beautiful cruelty, like tearing apart flowers) and stood up. Your eyes followed him, you probably realized that the direction he was going wasn't the ice cream path, but you just continued to sit there as he disappeared. He left you alone in a square, on purpose.

Grayson arrived at his apartment and exhaled, feeling something similar to peace, or would it be tranquility? Well, he'll never know. Thanks to his disorder, he can't know what he feels.

Seven days, one week. That was the time he slept peacefully without thinking about you, he was even surprised that you didn't send him a message or go after him. He even thought you had died (it was his plan, anyway).

But perhaps some force of resilience, a good person or you yourself allowed you to live longer, he realized this when, upon returning home from a shift at the police station, he saw you in the pharmacy. Buying medicine, probably.

That's why you two are now inside his car, which he made sure to park on a particularly deserted and dark street, far from where he said he would take you: your house. ”You disappeared... did you know?” he said, looking at you with that same smile from the day he abandoned you.