#mydevilsarehere

Nissim didn’t go out all too often anymore, but he still took every opportunity to go for it. Now Emmett wanted to come with him, he’d actually taken the effort to get his regular group together again. He didn’t see them too much anymore, especially because he hated them, but that didn’t matter when they were out. It wasn’t about liking anybody here. It was just about getting drunk and having a good time with mediocre people. 

He’d seen that one of them, Jordan, had taken a special interest in Emmett, which he at first wasn’t anything but amused by. This was a fucking typical start of the evening and Nissim could hardly wait for this to progress. Perhaps Emmett wouldn’t even have to stay at his place afterwards, but he wasn’t so sure about it yet. He knew how goddamn annoying Jordan could be, but maybe he would let his charming side overpower it for a change. 

Jordan had mostly been talking about Emmett. He’d asked him what he did, engaged in a regular conversation and done quite literally nothing to seem like he was coming on very strong. Emmett was respond to him, too, so it was probably alright for now. Nissim was amused. 

I want you to see something when you come home, my dear. Did you really expect that leaving your house was the absolute smartest thing to do, you dumb idiot? If you’re out, I can be in. 

This is why I lied in your bed for a little bit until I felt like it was time to go. It might not have been much longer than fifteen minutes or so, but it was enough for me to get warm. I still feel warm now, especially because of that scent. Hmm. Delicious. 

For the first time, I’ve left you something person, something readable. I placed it right on your bed, just so I knew you’d find it. I’ve left the covers all messy, obviously. 

“It’s warm under there, Emmett. Can’t wait to watch you tonight.” It might not even mean anything, but the intentions behind it must be clear. I think they’re already quite clear. 

If only you could see me half the time, Emmett. You look so good when you leave your house. You look so unsuspecting, so interesting, so yet unaware. It’s going to change, though, it is. You’re going to know that something is going on. Sometimes I wonder whether you’re already starting to notice, but something tells me that I will see it in the look on your face when you do. I thought I saw something last week, but I think I was wrong, because two days later I could see you smile again. I know that—just like any other person—you wouldn’t smile if you knew, and so I had to change it up again.

You’re a tidy person, I’d known that for so long, but when I walked in one day and saw you’d cleaned, I knew it was going to be different. I could take anything and you would notice. Over the past week and a half I had been taking some of your stuff, but it had never been anything big. I had taken one of your socks, a glass you’d drunk from, a pair of underwear from your drawer.

(It looked very gay, Emmett. You really are very proud of who you are, aren’t you?)

You’d find them back some day, I was sure of that, but not until you’d find out one of your favourite things was missing. Maybe you would become a little bit more alert now, maybe you would find your glass, maybe you would find your underwear, maybe you would find your sock.

In fact, I was very sure you would find them not long after, because you would be looking. You’d be upset, and who would be able to blame you for that? Nobody sane, right? ...Your pretty, sparkly dildo. Oh, such a shame.

You’d find your pair of underwear, because you would see it near the door of your flatmate’s room. There was no chance he’d have the same faggy pair, was there? I put it there, isn’t that funny? The thought of that alone caused me to laugh, because what if you would indeed suspect him? I couldn’t wait to find out, and I would, because I had taken the necessary measures very, very long ago, just to make sure that I would always know what you were doing.