Chapter 2- Shadow
Erik stepped out of the shadows of the clock and into the shadows of the city which he had learned, by the dullness of winter afternoons or the sheer nothingness of night, would hide him from the glances of unfamiliar faces and even less familiar accents. Should he happen to run in to anyone whilst out he would pull down his hat over his face and look at the ground, he simply seemed some what the anti social type. He played the part well, after all, he had had so much practice.
He had been in London for a couple of days and was so far finding it a distressing experience and with a pang of distaste he wished he had not come. He never did understand the hold that his friend had over him, she had indeed helped him but he had, on more than one occasion, repaid that debt to her. He shook the thought from his mind because for now he must concentrate on his return to the flat he had been renting. No one must see him, this was as important now as it had ever been.
Even seven years on and out of practice he was agile and quick as he bounced from alleyway to alleyway, his body merging into the blackness of the shadows, he himself becoming a part of them. His feet clicked along the cobbles and he moved with haste, in a few hours he would be in his friends company and, although he resented the need for the journey, even the harshness of his memories allowed him to miss her. But to miss someone was weak and he scolded himself regularly for the inconvenience of the thought.
He stopped for a second and stared at his reflection in the puddle of rain water at his feet, it was filthy and swirled with dirt but enough for him to see himself. He clenched his jaw and sighed then tugged his cape firmly around him... but again he looked down and lifted a hand to his lip touching the good part, his reflection followed and looked more repulsed than he felt. If that were possible. Somehow that side of his face had been spared though why he didn't know but it had and he didn't complain. At least part of him was okay, oh sometimes nature was a harsh master. He touched the rim of his hat sliding his finger around it to flick the remaining water off it before setting off again with his back to the wall.