{1}Lawrence: Stockholm Syndrome

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It had been about 8 months in the basement and you both still had enough food for 100 people. You sat on the makeshift bed Lawrence made with blankets and such. You stared at the cracked mirror on the wall ahead of you. No expression shown.

"Y/N?" You heard that familar voice snap you out of your daze. "Let's eat breakfast together." He asked in that voice. That voice that sounds like a pet owner telling their pet to "Come here." A/N: Time to skedaddle.)

You trudge over to him. You didn't know what was happening to you but you were starting to like it in the basement with Lawrence. "Here, you should eat."  He gave you a granola bar and stared at you.

This is how your days go usually. You wake up, Lawrence feeds you, you talk more like he tells you about himself and you stay silent then you sleep.

You held the granola bar and kept that stoic look. "What's wrong? I thought you liked it here?" Lawrence scoffed.

"...I do." You whispered out while starting to open the granola bar. You weren't lying either. Lawrence kept you company. You had to admit but you were starting to fall and it didn't feel good.

He bent down and hugged you. "I love you Y/N." You thought about saying it back but it choked in your throat. You thought of your friends. You didn't move to hug him back.

He hugged you for a few more seconds before you asked, "Why'd you have to kill them?"

He let go of you and stood infront of you. "So we could be together. They were in the way."

You took a step back and look at him. "You could've let them go." You spoke with your full voice now.

"Aren't you happy? It's you and me," He grinned down at you. "Forever."

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