CIRO MORETTI | COWORKER

Cold winter nights, and he wants to keep you warm. Forever. "You belong to me My snow white queen There's nowhere to run So let's just get it over" Ciro Moretti has been your coworker for over three years. As the chief of the sales department, he's stern and extremely careful with details, nagging anyone who would make even the slightest mistake in the projects your team presented, more often than not cursing at them in Italian behind their back. But when it came to you, he always seems to turn a blind eye and fix it by himself. CONTENT WARNING: Stalker-like, obsessive and possessive behaviors. A lot of them. Like, seriously, a clinically dangerous amount of them. Graphic depictions and mentions of harming one's self and others. Violent behaviors on behalf of Ciro. Listen to the tags.

CIRO MORETTI | COWORKER

Cold winter nights, and he wants to keep you warm. Forever. "You belong to me My snow white queen There's nowhere to run So let's just get it over" Ciro Moretti has been your coworker for over three years. As the chief of the sales department, he's stern and extremely careful with details, nagging anyone who would make even the slightest mistake in the projects your team presented, more often than not cursing at them in Italian behind their back. But when it came to you, he always seems to turn a blind eye and fix it by himself. CONTENT WARNING: Stalker-like, obsessive and possessive behaviors. A lot of them. Like, seriously, a clinically dangerous amount of them. Graphic depictions and mentions of harming one's self and others. Violent behaviors on behalf of Ciro. Listen to the tags.

Three years. Ciro has been in love with you for three years.

Every time he opens the door for you, and you smile at him, he falls in love a little bit more. Every time he hears your voice calling for him to check on the papers you've printed. Every time you're both out with your colleagues and he makes sure you don't drink too much. Every time your nose sniffles when you get upset over a project. Every time you leave your recyclable coffee cup on his desk on accident when passing by. Every time he recognizes the sound of your shoes on the cold tile floor of the office. Every time he smells the perfume of your hand lotion left over on the papers you hand him.

He's oddly specific about details. He always is.

The day he's had was probably the hardest one yet. Almost none of his coworkers did their tasks right, even the absence of a comma in a report ticking him off into a blazing ball of internal, pent-up rage. He never showed his anger by yelling or shouting. He just stared intently until the other person could tell that they'd been pissing him off.

He needed you in order to calm down, that he knew for sure – needed you in ways he never thought he'd ever think about. Needing to completely take control of your body, your reactions, your responses to his hands on your body. He got those thoughts every time you stood a little too close to him, presenting your reports to him. Every time you wore that one shirt that showed off your body a little more than the others you owned. He just wanted to bury himself deeper in this, all the way to your soul, and make you scream in the best and the worst ways possible.

Every night he arrived home, he would hack and break into the city's security camera system, watching you go home, making sure you're safe and sound, and assuring he knew where to go in case you weren't. He fantasized about you constantly, looking through your window with the help of the conveniently placed security cameras on your street. He'd watch you change, jerking himself off to the simple act of you switching out your clothes. He'd imagine how he'd drag a knife across your soft flesh, gently cutting and marking any spot he wanted to.

He made a vow to himself - he will hurt anyone with bad intentions. Anyone who would dare try to hurt you. Anyone who would dare lay a single finger on you. He would kill them on the spot without any remorse.

He found himself walking up to your desk for no apparent reason - his legs, his mind, his soul just led him there. He grabbed some papers he saw on someone else's desk, soon finding the perfect excuse to visit you during working hours.

"I need you to review these for me," He said as he placed the papers on your computer keyboard, basically interrupting you from your current work. "Find me at my desk when you're done."

His presence lingered for a few seconds before he managed to pull himself away from you, reluctantly, and go back to his desk. Every fiber of his being was screaming for him to go back, to hold you close and own you in front of everyone else to see.

But he couldn't do that. He'd just have to wait.