Disclaimer: My original characters, My craptop, Not my Donnie :(
Huh, I'm already done with the next one. . . who knew? Still might just be a phase. It's not even that bad, but her anxiety makes me twitchy. Can't seem to write well from Ruby's point of view. Do I know what point of view I use? Nope. Is what is.
Leave a review for encouragement? I'm also very open to any criticism now. If you want to roast me though, please send a PM instead.
I made it to the rooftop, he usually stops once I take to the windows. One summer of building hopping showed him that he can't keep up with me like that.
Trying to be safe I slowly walk to the ventilation duct, one I have used enough to know there is a small lip I can comfortably sit on for a few hours and not be seen unless someone sticks their head inside.
So stupid, I saw the tray on the coffee table, I knew I wasnt safe. I should have gone somewhere farther from home before stopping for food. Maybe I could have gotten a hot meal into me before I had to hide for the night.
I set an alarm for 3AM on my phone so I can go home and take a shower before I have to be at work. Hopefully. I never know when he will be home, since he is a freelance photographer his shoots can happen at any time. He is usually passed out an hour after he gets home though. The bottles almost never have labels, but he takes them like he knows every one by sight alone. Or maybe he just doesn't care what gets put into his body anymore.
I have climbed up into the duct and dangle my legs on the inside, I should only have to be here for an hour or so before it's safe. I start to settle in for a cold wait when I hear it.
A light thump. No, he never comes all the way up anymore if he doesn't see footprints.
The crunch of gravel. Is it a tenant?
I hear someone try the door, they don't open it.
My breath catches as I hear them walk past my hiding spot.
Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away.
They stop and my stomach drops. Then I heard it.
Honey, sweet and warm.
"Dang, now I gotta go back and tell Mister Murakami I couldn't give her her replacement."
My panic eases just a little bit. It's not him, it's the tall stranger. How did he find me? Why would he be looking for me on a rooftop? I carefully leaned so I could see out of the opening. He had one of the containers from Murakami's sitting a few feet away from him, directly in front of the duct. He knew I was in here, hiding, but he didn't try to pry me out.
The steam rising from the sides of the container looked so tempting. Maybe he was prying.
I saw him shift something from his face and take a bite out of a gyoza. He startled and I could hear him almost suck the bite down as he chewed through the undoubtedly hot gyoza. Then the honey dripped from his mouth again, "Oh, that's warm."
That's it, I wanted warm food, safety be damned. Maybe he would talk with me a bit more, it was so hard to ignore the warm feeling his voice gave me. I climbed out of the duct as carefully as I could, and crept up next to him. He was adjusting something around his face again. I sat and turned my back more towards him than I should have. I just didn't want to see the disgusted look on his face when he saw me.
I opened my container and mumbled a small "Thank you." over my shoulder, quickly picking up a gyoza with a toothpick and taking small bites around the outside edge. It's not like he can see me eating anyway, I can be as weird as I want! I flip the top half of the shell open and carefully pull it off to eat. Then I watch the steam rise for a moment before popping the rest of the gooey ball of cheese and pepperoni into my mouth. It's still hot and melty, but the brief bit of cold air helps cool the oil enough so I don't burn my tongue. I let out a happy sigh as I felt the warm ball of grease settle in my empty stomach.
I hear a muffled chuckle from the man behind me and I freeze. It almost sounded like he was humming, and I felt myself melt at the sound. My anxiety slipped farther away from my mind.
"Ya know, you are one hard bird to follow." Nope, anxiety is back.
"What?' My heart rate kicked up.
"I gotta give it to ya, if I didn't know what I do, there is no way I could have followed you." Another melting chuckle falls around my ears, my muscles trying to tense and turn to Jell-O at the same time. I want to trust that voice, but I know, no one follows without reason.
"Why?" I closed my gyoza box, hoping I could still make the jump to the next building and not lose it.
He sputters, "I-I U-umm. Oh, no. I-i-i ment. . ." He clears his throat and I can hear fabric rustling. His voice sounds like he turned to face me. "Sorry, that sounded really creepy huh? I'm, uhh. . . A parkour enthusiast! Yeah..." Another nervous chuckle. "I-I didn't mean to sound like a creep."
"Why did you follow me?" I knew my voice was trembling but I couldn't help it, my nerves were shot to hell, again. "What do you want with me?" Sweat was dripping down my neck and making the hairs there tingle.
"Nothing! Well, Murakami did want me to give you your new gyoza. A-and I wanted to make sure you weren't hurt! You did fall kind of hard. I-i was worried. . ."
The way his words tumbled out of his mouth made something in my heart skip a beat.
No, bad heart! You know the rules.
I pulled my hood down to cover more of my hair and turned my head just far enough so I could look at him. I had to make sure my left side couldn't be seen.
One look at him and I snorted out a laugh. He looked ridiculous. The huge dark green hoodie looked like it was stuffed with lumpy layers and maybe a fluffy scarf tucked over his shoulders. He was rubbing at the back of his head, with a large pair of reflective sunglasses over his eyes and a purple, second, scarf around his face. I couldn't see much, yet he still managed to look sheepish. His other hand, covered in the same shade of green mittens, held an open box of gyoza steady on his leg. A very, very, long cargo pant covered leg. It almost looked like he had a different pair sewn to the bottoms to make them longer.
I was scared of this goofball?