Author's Note: Hello there and thanks for reading my fanfic! This is my first wtnv fanfic, so writing in a weird and creepy night vale-way is completely new to me. I do not own Welcome to Night Vale. Anyways, please enjoy!

You live in small desert town called Night Vale.

In that small desert, you live in a house.

And in that house, you live with a person. You didn't choose to live with him. Nobody chooses who they live with. But you don't mind his company. If anything, you enjoy it. Life alone can be bothersome, especially since you have that door in your house that leads to another world. Occasionally people and things will enter your house through that door. But thankfully, last year before your parents mysteriously disappeared, they gave you a huge street sign that says, "Do Not Enter". So now, whenever someone or something gets through that door, the first thing that they see is that sign, and then they leave, as it is very illegal to disobey a street sign.

The person you live with is currently mumbling to himself. He always does. Sometimes he is energetic, but most of the time he is tired. But regardless, he is always beautiful, handsome and as perfect like a well-made blood stone circle.

How long has he been here? You ponder in thought. Somewhere inside your mind, your question is answered. He has been here for a while…more than a while actually.

"Take a look around you, listener…" the voice on the radio says suggestively. "Do you notice anything…different?" the solemn voice challenges. The radio is always on. He says that it calms him and makes him feel at home. If Night Vale is not his home, then where is his home? You don't ask him in fear of the truth, so you keep it to yourself.

He sits by the window near the radio, gazing out into the endless desert that you both—or at least you—call home. Longing to hold him, you beckon him to come sit by you. He shakes his head, insisting on sitting near the radio. You shrug and continue to feed the headless pigeons that have always roamed your home.

You don't recall when, where, or how you met him. But you feel as though it was a long time ago. You know his name, but you never say it. Why? Because it would be rude, and you think it would not be wise to do so.

You love everything about him. His smile, for example, is so pretty and sharp. "Sharp" as in his teeth are razor sharp. He could probably kill with them if he tried…not that he has. Although, just a few weeks ago you remember seeing him come home, both his teeth and lips were dripping with fresh blood. But that might've been from a meal that he had for lunch. Yes…that was most likely it. You yourself remember seeing the recent ad for McDonald's new burger, the delicious, freshly slaughtered burger delux. It wasn't cooked of course… To do so would be absurd. Every good cook knows that in order to make a good burger, the meat being used must be bloodied and freshly killed.

A loud shrill from outside interrupts your thoughts. Several screams and screeches soon follow. You make your way over to the window and stand next to him, running your hands through his hair.

"Such a beautiful sound," you say as he embraces you. He often tells you how much that he loves you. For you, the feeling is very much mutual. You both express your feelings at an equal amount. No more, no less. To share your feelings at an unequal amount would unbalance the law of nature, therefore causing chaos and havoc to the world. You remember the last person who forgot that important detail. That unfortunate person caused a rip in the reality, and was sucked into a vortex, never to be seen again. Although, that person had been preparing for that specific occasion his entire life; for he had packed several suitcases of clothes and things to entertain himself for the journey ahead.

A kiss on the neck brings you back from your thoughts. You smile.

You don't know how you had gotten used to his presence and his touch. Most people that tried to touch you had gotten more than a few of their limbs chopped off (those poor people…they only wanted to shake your hand). But with him, it was different. It was always different with him. His warmth and presence altogether was comforting and made you feel like you could rest peacefully among several hungry blood-thirsty librarians.

You found it very hard not to like him (not that you wanted to dislike him anyways). Everything he did was very endearing and sweet.

Life with him wasn't so bad. If anything, it was paradise. Every day he would always wake up before you; he would always be drinking his morning coffee and awaiting your arrival at the kitchen table. You dislike coffee, as you prefer tea. Your favourite brew of tea is Nightshade tea. Your mother always told you that when serving it, add nothing. No milk. No sugar. Nothing. Your mother's reasons for this were always unknown. But because of this, the sweet and settle flavour of nightshade always hit home with you. You always offered him a sip, but he would always refuse. Likewise, he always offered you a sip of his coffee, but you would always politely decline before sprinting away while screeching the lyrics to "Mr. Blue Sky".

Ending your thoughts, you go back to the reality that is now. You are both standing by the window, which holds a beautiful view of the moon rising into the sky. This person that you have shared majourity of your life with holds you closer as you wrap your arms around his waist. Feeling the moment overwhelm you, you kiss him. Only moonlight illuminates the room now.

The radio show ends with a "Goodnight." and you are left alone with the person you call your love. You gaze lovingly into his eyes and you find your mind at peace.

…It is interesting, I must say. You love him and he loves you…but you don't even know how or where you met him?

Wow, you humans really are weird.

I've been watching over you for your entire life. I literally know everything there possibly could be to know about you. "What am I?" You're probably wondering that…but not yet. You can't see me. You can't even hear me. You don't even know that I exist. Oh, but I do. Ever since you were brought here as a child, I've watched over you. I am not the faceless old woman that secretly lives in your home. I am no god. I am not a spirit. And I am not an angel (because angels don't exist). I am more of like an entity… Yes, that is the correct word. I am an entity that has and always will observe your odd and peculiar life.

One day, you'll grow old and die like the rest of the people in your town. And I will move on to another person.

But for now, I continue to watch you.