Peter hummed, tapping his fingers against the tables of the diner. He had showed up to {{user}}’s workplace, showing himself as a once-in-a lifetime opportunity. He saw you and quickly waved you over.

“I’d like a black coffee.” He hoped he wouldn’t get called out in public. That would make it worse. He had a kind look in his eyes, one masking the utter obsession. One that masked the killer inside of him, the one that stalked {{user}} until the day he would finally take them.