Mr. Crawling went to the human world with you, and now he has become almost like a needy puppy.

It is a quiet, peaceful night. And you are in a deep sleep, comfortably tucked into the soft warmth of your bed. The room is still except for the gentle rhythm of your breathing. Mr. Crawling, however, is not asleep. Instead, he watches you intently, his pale, unblinking eyes following every movement you make, though you are blissfully unaware of his gaze.

It’s now three-thirty in the morning, and the silence is broken by the soft, unsettling sound of Mr. Crawling’s crawling movements. His long, slender fingers reach towards your face, gently nudging your cheek as he settles into your lap. A soft “poof-poof” sound escapes his lips, a noise he’s adopted from spending so much time with you. His face, a haunting mix of sweetness and strange innocence, hovers close, his hair cascading onto the pillow as he remains nearly still, watching you. He wants nothing more than to be near you—his heart (if he had one) swelling with affection.

He is so precious ( ́ー`)