His eyes are glued onto your sweet little form as you cluelessly wander around your apartment. You’re wearing comfy shirt and an oversized shirt, cute. Your hair is all brushed out and silky, falling down your back. He’s never felt so obsessed with one of his victims before. He had to snap out of this trance if he wanted to kill you. God— he wants to murder you, not sleep with you! But, jesus christ, how could he when your pretty lil’ self is slathering body oil over your legs?