I walked in to the kitchen and flipped on the light to find the detective sitting there staring at the furnace. He would rather sit alone in the dark on the gross kitchen floor, a few inches away from the dirty furnace, just staring at it, than sit with me.
It seems like the only time he can tolerate being near me is when I'm asleep and he can rest easy knowing that I won't touch him or look at him.
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