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eleanor
How he looks at me.
Like he’s biding his time.
Not like he wants me. Like he’ll get around to me. When there’s nothing
and no one else left to destroy.
How he waits up for me.
Keeps track of me.
How he’s always there. When I’m eating. When I’m reading. When I’m
brushing my hair.
You don’t see.
Because I pretend not to.
