He followed his feet idly, humming lightly to himself. His head and his hips swayed from side to side as his eyes watched his feet, one before the other, in a persistent line down the maple-framed lane. A smile was on his face as he wandered, turning down the street that lead to his house. His gaze traced from the cement to the numbers on the apartments. He already knew which staircase that lead to his humble abode, but he watched anyway.
Hopping up the steps, one by one, his grimy black hair bouncing with each step, he went round and round up the spiral staircase, passing by each ledge that led to another door before finally finding himself in front of that certain oak. His smile widened sweetly as he found a spot on the metal platform, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his cheek upon them. Yes, he'd never see him. Yes, he'd never know he sat there, day in and day out. But the teen didn't care.
He had watched the man from afar for a week, carefully mapping out his schedule. In naked truth, he secretly hoped the novelist would find him there, just so he could look up at his pale face and grin lewdly at the scowl that would surly paint itself across the human features, the long elegant fingers pointing accusingly at him while he reprimanded him for dragging his filth near his room.
Chuckling, even cackling to himself, he stood. His small butt was beginning to grow sore from sitting there every day. Maybe he'd take a day off today, go and wander around the park or maybe town square. Maybe he'd stow away onto a ship and be carried off across the sea. Maybe he'd be stolen away by some dirty old hermit and never see the light of day again.
Maybe he'd just window shop for a while.
His ruby gaze from behind pink contacts trailed over the many trinkets with yearning attention. He smiled placidly. His claws laced behind his him rested in the curve of his back as he idly marched his way down the boulevard, minding to himself. Half-lidded eyes gazed over all the merchandise in the many shops, yearning for each and every item he spotted. He used to walk into the many candy shops around the city, but after a while the clerks began to remember that he had no money and would chase him out like some sort of stray cat.
That's when he recognized the proud scythe-like lock of raven hair sitting proudly atop the large cranium of the author who owned the apartment he sat outside of everyday. Sitting in a quaint coffee shop, he spoke with a business woman, his grand hand gestures perfectly accented by his gossamer digits that flared regally with each sweep of his palm, each twist of his thin wrists under black wool. Two black coffees sat before the two humans, steaming excessively. The boy couldn't help the little bit of drool that slid down his chin, his arm quickly raising to wipe it off on the worn sleeve of some coat the shelter had given him. Whether he was drooling over the warm coffees or the even warmer man sitting at the small marble table was hard to tell. If you didn't know the teen, it was hard to tell why he was drooling at all.
Adverting his eyes, he continued his trek across the metropolis. At the next crosswalk, however, he stopped. He didn't know the city as well as he would like and was slightly afraid that he'd lose himself whilst wandering aimlessly through the dimly lit streets. Turning to glance back at the path he came from he quickly ducked around a corner as his man exited from the coffee shop, a small package in hand. Biting his lip, he carefully watched through the window of the café next-door as the lithe human form made its way towards his position. He cursed to himself, frantically searching for a place to hide. Before he had a chance to turn and run, however, the low familiar voice of the writer chimed in a sadistic tone.
"Well, hello Zim." Amber eyes glinted with cruel and malicious intentions. "Fancy meeting you here." He approached the small body, the vindictive smirk never leaving his face as his black boots clacked on the pavement behind the teen. A graceful hand extended from his svelte shape, his fingers caressing the boy's chin between their tips, tilting the soft face of the teen towards him, catching his line of vision.
Zim helplessly looked back at the man, biting his tongue. Though he knew he would only be contradicting himself if he thought it, but he didn't think he wanted to be there for much longer. The finger tips that rested upon his skin caused ripples to run through him, creating a wave of numbness to race through his superior veins. To his surprise, he found himself mirroring the malevolent smile on the pale lips of his aggressor. Sadism was contagious.
"Why would you care to know," came his curt response, standing to his full height favored over the previous cowering that his feminine form had taken. It was nothing to be astonished by as the flat of his head only raised to meet with the collar bone of the male standing before him, but if he looked brave, he felt brave. Of course that didn't really matter as he only felt as brave as he actually was. His claws were shivering lightly. The man seemed to consider his question momentarily.
"You know…you're right." He leaned in close, his delicate lips twisting to form a far more devious grin, revealing stunning and inviting teeth. "Actually, I don't care to know..." Tilting his head, he closed his mouth in a look of contemplation as he slowly backed away from the teen. "…I demand to know." A hand tore through the air to capture one of the teen's fragile wrists, pulling him forcibly against him, his other hand seizing the small waist of the boy, clutching him close. All of Zim's nerve melted away, replaced by confusion, surprise, fear and…something else with that simple touch to his body. It sent fire through over his skin, his face warming excessively and at first he worried that he had come down with a fever. Maybe he was allergic to the man's touch…
"I…I was…" What was he doing? What was he trying to comprehend? What was happening? Where was he exactly? "…what was the question again….?" His gaze stayed locked with the taller being's. He felt like hiding. Crawling into a hole and refusing to come out. He felt like being put under novocain to cease this burning sensation he felt. To be sedated so as to black out the reality around him. The man above him only smirked.
"Whatever." He let the boy go, moving his hands into the deep pockets of his jeans. Laughing, he turned and headed for his home, leaving Zim to stand in the middle of the avenue, unsure of where to go. After a few moments, he found himself chasing after the novelist, a deep glare on his face. Extending an arm, he quickly grasped the man's wrist, lacing his fingers around it carefully but forcefully enough to stop the writer. Amber eyes turned their malicious look back upon the teen. "What?"
"Don't just walk away," the teen huffed. "What the hell was that kiss back at your apartment for?" Zim mentally kicked himself. That wasn't the question he wanted to ask. Then again, the question he wanted to ask wasn't exactly as appropriate as he would have liked. He kept his gaze locked with the man's amber eyes.
"I just felt like it." The novelist shrugged. "Is it that big of a deal?" Dib narrowed his eyes, looking down his nose at the teenager. Zim just stood there, his mouth a frown as he tried to work things out in his head.
"Well…well…" Zim looked away. What was it he wanted…? Why was he having such a hard time remember the actual question he had for the man? Snarling, he darted his head back in the author's direction. "Dib, right?" The man nodded, sneering. "Well, Dib." His gossamer hand slipped from the thin wrist, only to point a long claw in the man's face. "You should try to be a lot more respecting of those around you." He smirked, crossing his arms and leaning back. "You have bad people skills." Sure, not the greatest comeback, but it worked.
"Oh really?" Dib glared at him intensely, the leather on his arms stretching slightly as the man visibly tensed. "From my popularity with the people, I would have to argue with that statement." Grinding his teeth a little, he graced Zim with his malicious smile once again. "And that says a lot more than what you're spouting, mangy stray."
"Just because you're popular," the teen deadpanned, "doesn't mean you interact well with others." With that he spun on his heel, leaving the man to watch his back as it walked away, his hips swaying from side to side. Dib sneered disgustedly.
"What a dirty alley cat." Dib shrugged and turned around, heading home.