We were both silent on the walk home, the only sound coming from either of us was the rustling of our grocery bags.

Jeff didn't try to hold my hand this time.

I'm fact, he walked a few feet ahead of me, leaving an uncomfortable gap between us.

I wanted to speed up and walk by him again, but something told me he didn't feel like walking by anyone, so I restrained myself.

While walking, I felt an impending sense of doom, like something bad was going to happen.

I took careful steps, glancing around me occasionally.

I was extra careful as we walked past alleyways or gaps between buildings, but nothing happened.

We made it to my building and walked up to my apartment with ease.

Jeff waited by my door, making me unlock it.

I felt my arm brush against his stomach as I unlocked the door.

We set our bags on the counter and began to unpack them, neither of us speaking.

The silence wasn't mandatory like it was while we were walking back.

I felt the need to break it.

"Um... Jeff?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah?" He glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

"I'm sorry." I stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact.

"Th'hell are you apologizing for? I'm the one that was out of line. I just thought you needed some time to cool off." He turned around to fully face me, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I thought you were mad at me." I said nervously.

"Stop acting like a nervous school girl. I'm not gonna hurt you." He rolled his eyes and took a step closer, backing me against the counter.

Oh my god why meeeee?!

"I know you aren't." I said quietly.

"Then why the fuck do you look so scared?" He asked.

"I don't know." I muttered.

I squeaked when his fingers went under my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"Why are you scared of me?" He asked, his voice stern.

"I... um- I don't know." I repeated, stuttering.

Hmmm I dunno man, maybe because you're a GOD DAMN MURDERER???

Jeff rolled his eyes and released my chin, but I continued to stare at him.

His eyes...

"So you're scared one second, then staring at me while daydreaming the next? Make up your god damn mind. Do you want me or not?" He teased.

"Maybe..." I whispered quietly to myself.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Nothing." I said quickly, turning around to continue with the groceries.

"Have you ever fucked someone in this kitchen?" He questioned.

I froze in place.

"What the fuck kind of question is that??" I spun around and faced him again.

"You're blushing pretty bad so I'm gonna say no, but you've definitely thought about it. Maybe even thought about someone specific? Someone you've been thinking non stop about for 5 years?" He stared down at me, a glint in his eye.

"Jeff, I don't have sex dreams about you." I rolled my eyes.

"What about sexual thoughts?" He asked.

"No." I said.

Liar.

GOD I JUST WANT HIM TO F-

"That look on your face says otherwise. There's so much sexual tension in here that I could cut it up like I did with-" I cut him off.

He just ruined the entire mood.

"Jeff. I don't need to hear about what you did to my ex, alright?" I shook my head.

"Whatever." He mumbled.

"Anyways... are you staying here again tonight? If you are then I need to find the spare pillows." I asked.

"I don't know yet. And why would you need the extra pillows? I could just sleep with y-" I once again cut him off.

"Dude, put your dick away. You horny or something? I mean seriously you've made more sex jokes in the last 5 minutes than you have in 5 years." I rolled my eyes.

"Well, I just noticed how fat your as-" AGAIN, I cut this bitch off.

"Are you kidding me right now." I sighed, exhausted.

"Nope." He chuckled.

"Jesus, I forgot how horrible it is to live with a horny dude. No wonder I had a girlfriend in college. Men are too much." I mumbled to myself.

"You had a girlfriend? Damn, that's hot." He said to himself.

"Sexualities aren't for you to fetishize. Now shut the fuck up before I tase you." I glared at him.

He held his hands up, surrendering and grabbed a can, putting it into the cabinet.

"Finish putting these up, will you? I'm gonna go change." I made my way out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, not waiting for his response.

I hurried over to the medicine cabinet, sorting through the pill bottles.

I sighed and grabbed one.

Ibuprofen.

Just what I needed.

I shook out 3 pills and swallowed them dry.

"Hey, (Y/N), we should get shit faced drunk tonight. That would be hilarious." Jeff knocked on the open door, alerting me to his presence.

I noticed he was holding my last bottle of vodka.

"I was saving that for my birthday, but I guess I could always buy another bottle. Y'know what I realized? That cashier boy never asked for an ID. I don't look that old, do I?" I started to ramble, looking at myself in the mirror.

"Honestly? I thought you were like 24." Jeff said, moving behind me and glancing between our reflections.

"I am 24, dipshit. You literally told me my birthday yesterday." I rolled my eyes.

"You've been chasing me for 5 years, though. It doesn't add up, because that means you started my case while you were in college." He mumbled, glancing at me in the mirror and furrowing his brows.

"I did my own researching before I joined the actual force, then I asked specifically for your case. Luckily I had enough leads on you to be assigned to it. It was close, though. I almost lost your case assignment to another detective." I explained, stepping away from the mirror.

"Why were you researching me before you even got the case? That was dumb." He asked.

"Because your killing style fascinated me. We went to middle school together, Jeff." I raised an eyebrow.

"We did?! What the fuck?" He yelled.

"Duh. I was in Mrs. Chivleys math class with you, and we had the same lunch period. I even got partnered with you for a project!" I laughed at his stupidity.

"What the hell...? You think I'd remember someone as be-" He caught himself before he could finish his sentence.

"As what?" I questioned, leaning forward a bit.

"Bitchy. Someone as bitchy as you." He chuckled, but it sounded a bit nervous.

"You asshole." I mumbled.

"Anyways. Does that mean you were around town when I first started?" He asked.

"Yeah. I remember seeing you on the news all the time. I wasn't really ever scared though. I was more intrigued. I wanted to know why you did that, and how. They never disclosed how you killed your parents, but pretty much everyone figured it out when they said you were carrying a knife with you." I said.

He nodded slowly, going through what I had said.

"Wanna drink?" He questioned, glancing at me.

"Give me that." I mumbled, snatching it from him.

I unscrewed the cap while walking to the living room, then took a huge swig of it.

I flopped down on the couch, taking another drink.

Jeff followed close behind, watching my every move.

"Jesus fuck that was hot. Y'know, I've always had a thing for people who could handle their alcohol." He chuckled, sitting down next to me and resting his arm on the cushion behind my head.

"Oh yeah?" I asked, smirking and turning my head to look at him.

"Yeah." He confirmed.

"You'll love me then. All I do is get drunk every weekend." I took a deep breath and leaned back, feeling his arm against my neck.

"Oh I know. I had to bring you home a couple of times. You're a snorer when you're drunk, y'know?" He glanced at me.

"What? I am not!" I raised my voice.

"You totally are. Now gimme that, stop hogging it." He reached for the bottle.

I handed it to him and watched him take a gulp.

Is this what catching feelings is like?

Cause right now I could swear he was the sexiest man I've ever seen.