Hi guys! It's been a struggle to stick my ideas together. Still struggling, actually. There's a future chapter that I really want to write (very badly!) now but of course I have to wait. So, while I think up what happens between this and that, here's a short Allen-centric chapter for you! Hope you like it!

CHAPTER 2: Through the Closed Window

'Thud, thud, thud'– it goes. I hear it even before I see her. It has become a warning of sorts to me.

There she goes again.

'Thud, thud, thud': The sound of her feet beating against the gravel, like the rhythmic beating of the drums.

It's always the same. Everyday she comes running into town like a whirlwind; unmindful of the distraction she creates. By standing by my window on the second floor, I have clear but fleeting shot of the little whirlwind exiting her farm.

With the browning of leaves was the appearance of new buildings and new people, all through her efforts. She's met with them too. I've seen her entering their houses, a gift in hand. They were simple gifts; things she foraged from the forest like mushrooms and freshly picked herbs. I never thought anyone would be happy from them but the recipients always are judging by the look on their faces. They would smile at her and she'd return it with her own before she ran off. Getting herself dirty for the sake of people she's never met, that fool.

And yet, she has never dropped in my salon, which explains that nest they call hair. Only through this window do I get a clear shot of her however fleeting it might be.

In the infinity between seconds, I see her tangled locks billowing behind her. My hands are itching to comb through the bland strands. It's a struggle to keep them at bay. Still further between those infinities is a glimpse of her face, as innocent as a kid's. A stubborn smile is always on her lips. Finally, her eyes – as unfathomable as the sky. A blue that always looked nowhere but forward and never in my direction.

Then she's gone like a dream – like a dream I can only catch the tail-end of.

I run my hands through my hair. A small part of me questions whether I've turned into a devilishly handsome stalker.

Focus, Allen. Focus on the work at hand, I think as I walk back to my table. A bowl of herb soup is on top of the table. I take a sip before moving it on top of the cabinet. Ever since I arrived, they have been leaving me a bowl of it everyday on the counter downstairs. As if it would make me stay. Honestly, that old man. At the very least, he's getting better at cooking.

After moving the soup, all that's left on the table is a blank sheet of paper. Sitting down, I snatch a pencil from my pocket and wait for inspiration to hit.

To a man like me, it's always been easy to create new hairstyles. All it takes is genius - which I have in abundance – and a clear mind. And yet, my hand is unmoving on top of the paper. I hear the ticking of the clock.

Tick tock.

Tick Tock.

TICK TOCK.

The page remains unblemished. By now, I should at least be seeing an image but damn it, all I see is the faraway blue of her eyes.

I give my head a shake, as if that would dispel all unnecessary thoughts. Unnecessary frustrations. A woman does not vex me; has never vexed me. It is I who perplex them not vice-versa. That has always been the natural order of things.

Until now, says a small voice in my head.

The first time I saw her, my guts told me she was going to be a challenge. I had looked forward to it too: Her exasperated banter and below the belt comments; her clenched teeth and flushed cheeks; her eyes shining with unshed tears. That was the game. That was my game.

The voice is growing louder now: But the ball isn't in your court anymore.

I put down the pencil in my hand just on time. It had been in danger of snapping in two. But still, the paper is left blank. I take deep breaths, knowing I was going nowhere.

Fine, I think, my trademark grin tugging at my lips. I'll just have to steal the ball back.

Then, with the pencil back in my hand, a plan starts to form in my mind. All the while my fingers move to fill in the spaces.

Rod entered the salon, not bothering to knock. He was half-expecting his childhood friend to chastise him about it. However, he found the room empty. He circled the counter, heading upstairs guessing the redhead would be there. This room too was empty, to no avail.

"Man, and I was excited to tell him I would be moving in too", said Rod to no one in particular. Just as he took a step down back the stairs, a piece of crumpled paper caught his eyes. Curious thing he was, he walked back and ironed it flat on the table. He figured Allen wouldn't mind.

Ever since they were children, Allen had a certain knack with his hands. Most of Rod's childhood had been spent admiring Allen's talents. From carpentry to sewing, the redhead could do them all flawlessly. It didn't help that his mother and sister were utterly useless with those things.

"But I guess it wasn't for nothing" Rod's fingers traced the air above lines of the sketch, not wanting to smudge it. After all, his current profession had stemmed from there. And also…

The drawing was beautiful. Allen had only used a pencil and yet he was able to produce a variety of shades, of depths. A hard hand for the darker shade and delicate strokes for the light tints. It was beautiful, but it also looked very distant even on paper.

Yes, the eyes did.

The End.

A/N: So that's the end of another chapter! You can tell I am getting close to the fluff, amarite? But I've honestly grown so attached to angst!Allen. Plus, fluff and angst go so well together! (sings) Where shall I go from here~~~ (/singing)

If you like this story, please don't forget to check the follow box. :D And if you want to make this little writer happy, a review would be equivalent to giving me a box of happiness. Even if they are constructive criticism!

For the record, Allen did only draw a pair of eyes.

To An – (In response to your review on Chapter 1) Thank you! It makes me immensely happy to hear that I'm fanning myself just thinking of Allen! And I don't know about the others, but I am totally willing to coerce you to join the Allen x Rio ship.

P.S. If you have any suggestions or requests, you are welcome to tell me. Although it's not a guarantee I'll be able to work on it :D