After we let the bleach soak in, we scrubbed at the carpet.

Jeff was amazed to find that the stain was nearly invisible.

Unless you were really looking for it, you'd never find it.

"Told you I'd get it." I said proudly.

"I'm honestly impressed, detective. You'd make a great side kick." He commented, crossing his arms.

"I'd never be a side kick to a murderer. I'm literally the person who catches murderers and puts them in prison." I raised an eyebrow.

"You can always teach an old dog a new trick." He said.

"First of all, no, second of all, I'm not old. I'm younger than you." I said.

"Only by a year." He muttered.

"And how do you know that?" I asked, suspicious.

"I did my research in those 5 long years. I know all about you." He said.

"Oh yeah? When's my birthday?" I questioned.

"The (B/D) of (B/M). And the year was 1995. Making you 24 as of this year." He said cockily.

"Fine. What's my favorite food?" I smirked, knowing I had him cornered.

"That's easy, ramen. Specifically the beef flavored." He said, meeting my gaze.

"Okay. Maybe you know a lot, but you definitely don't know everything." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not so sure about that. I mean I have been watching you for a few months now. I've seen everything." He said, leaning in a bit.

"Everything, huh? What colored bra am I wearing then?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Black. Because your shirt is a dark color." He said, pointing at my navy blue shirt.

I had changed while waiting for the bleach to soak, so now I was wearing black sweatpants and a navy blue short sleeved shirt.

"What?! Did you watch me change, you perv!?" I yelled, backing up.

"I can see your bra strap, genius. I'm not a complete weirdo." He rolled his eyes, hooking his finger into the strap and pulling, making it slap my shoulder.

I rubbed the spot where it hit and glared at him.

"That hurt, asshole." I muttered.

"Well, at least I didn't peep on you while you were changing." He reasoned.

"Yeah, whatever." I said quietly.

We were still sitting on my bedroom floor, facing each other and making casual conversation.

"I should get this towel into the wash." I said, standing up and stretching.

Jeff stood up too, yawning.

"I should probably get going soon. Can't stay in one place for too long, y'know?" He said.

"The only person who ever cared enough to track you down was me, so I don't really think you have to worry about that too much." I raised an eyebrow.

"True. I could ruin your entire life by pinning you as an accessory to murder. I could get away, but you, on the other hand? You'd be fucked." He chuckled.

"I knew what I was getting myself into." I defended myself.

"Sure, sure." Jeff said, waving me off.

I rolled my eyes and walked out of the room, hearing Jeff behind me.

He followed me to the washer, and watched me as I threw the towel into the washer, added some soap, and hit the start button.

"What?" I asked.

"I didn't say anything." He argued.

"You're following me around and staring at me." I said, crossing my arms.

"Well there's nothing else to do. I mean there are a few things but I don't think you'd be into them." He said.

"Are you making a sex joke or a murder joke?" I questioned.

"Why not both at the same time?" He chuckled.

"You're so gross." I scrunched my nose up in disgust.

"Whatever, your loss. I mean I honestly don't believe you could handle me." He said cockily.

"Please, I've handled way worse." I scoffed.

"Oh really? Remind me again how you know what I'm like." He raised an eyebrow.

"Just a guess." I smirked.

"Whatever." He sighed, walking off.

I followed behind him, the broke off and went to the kitchen while he went to the living room.

"Hey, Jeff, want some food?" I asked.

"Sure. What are you making? I'm something of a master chef in the kitchen." He bragged.

"I was just thinking jelly sandwiches or something." I said.

"Oh, hell no. We're having spaghetti." He argued, walking into the kitchen.

"I'm not making spaghetti." I crossed my arms, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"I'll make it." He rolled his eyes, shooing me away from the cabinet.

"I watched you the last time you went to the store, so I know you have the shit I need to make it with. And after 7 months, I've learned your kitchen." He chuckled.

"It's still so annoying to me that I looked for you for those 7 months while you were watching me. Like how did I NEVER catch you?" I asked.

"That's pretty simple, actually. But it's a secret." He joked.

"What? Just tell me." I groaned.

"Fine, but you have to come close." He said.

I sighed and leaned my ear closer to him.

"Closerrrr." He urged.

"Jeff-" He cut me off.

"Just come here." He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him, leaning down to my ear.

He cupped his hand around it.

"You're bad at looking at your surroundings." He whispered, sending a shiver down my spine.

He didn't let go for an extra few seconds.

"Do I scare you, detective?" He asked in a dark voice.

"A little." I admitted quietly.

"Why's that?" He asked.

I could feel his breath on my neck, making me shiver.

"Because you could kill me." I whispered.

"I could. But would I?"