As the weeks progressed and the days grew shorter and colder, Arthur's fondness for Kendra began to grow into something even stronger than he felt before. It had become an almost unhealthy obsession. But Arthur did not see it that way. No. This wasn't some random woman he saw on the train, or subway, or walking past him down the street. They had connected: no matter how brief. They bonded over small talk and a cigarette even. At first glance he had not given her much consideration. She had simply been just another one of the many women of Gotham City that would not have given him a second thought. But he knew her now; granted not as much as he'd like to, but enough to fill the many gaps within his mind. Gaps that were left empty from the sparring moments they had together.
But Arthur was creative; and dedicated at that. He would continue to play the strange and unfamiliar game of courtship with the young redhead; even if she herself was an unknowing participant. They both had kept their promises to sit next to one another during their group therapy sessions but Arthur realized; all too quickly, that regardless of the brazen way she had approached him the first time they met, she was rather shy and did not like speaking much to anyone during the group's discussions. He noticed the way she would fidget her legs and wring her hands together as if half expecting the worst to happen. "Poor doll", he'd more than once caught himself inwardly sighing within his mind.
This night however seemed to be off. In such a way that made Arthur's stomach flip. Unlike most days where Kendra would acknowledge him with a small smile and a slight nod of her head she had refused to so much as glance up at him with her doe-like eyes. Oh sure, he would catch her scrutinizing him from the side, "As if I can't tell, Darling" but she would quickly shuffle in her seat and look in the opposite direction if she had been caught.
"What could possibly be the matter?" he thought bitterly to himself.
But as the session ended and the chairs began their nightly dance across the floor, he quickly made out her small figure rushing towards the exit. Now was his chance. He knew she wouldn't be taken too off guard if he were to chase after her; given their friendship and all, but he also felt as if she owed him an explanation for her strange behavior. He left his vacant chair to sit lonesomely in the center of the room and walked after her sudden departure.
Before he had time to control the octave and slight quiver in his voice, he all too loudly called out her name.
She turned on her heels quickly; as if someone had fired a round of bullets into the chilly night air. She stared awestruck for a moment before stammering out his name. "Arthur?" Strange how it sounded more like a question than an acknowledgment.
"It's getting pretty cold out here, huh?" He laughed, sending a small mist to linger in the air.
She nodded her head quickly, smiling nervously in a way that made the butterflies in his stomach dance and flutter to an almost rhythmic beat.
He watched her for a moment longer before asking if she was alright.
She gulped slowly before answering in a trembling voice, "Yeah… Works just been a bitch lately and I haven't gotten much sleep."
Arthur lit a cigarette causing Kendra to watch him take his first drag with a longing expression upon her features.
"I know you've been feeling down lately. You already told me about some of what's been happening lately."
At this she hitched her breath and tried her best to conceal it. Through an outsider's perspective, you could clearly see the way Kendra shuffled uncomfortably. Arthur however did not notice, which might have been for the best after-all.
"Have we?" She questioned, giggling nervously as she usually did. Such an endearing quality, Arthur would think to himself.
"Of course." He chuckled. "I know you don't like making a big deal out of things."
She shifted slightly while scuffing the soul of her shoe on the pavement, clutching her coat to her chest tightly as if to shield herself from his scrutinizing gaze. She averted her eyes to the ground, trying her best to not break whatever reality he had playing in his mind.
"I understand, dear" he thought quietly to himself, unable to control the smile that crept up his face.
A moment more passed between the two of them as nothing more was said on the matter. Arthur would have liked to hear more of how her day had been treating her. Well, aside from what he had already witnessed from the shadows of some of the preferred hiding spots he had been using to keep a protective eye on her day-to-day activities. But she was a modest girl and he was not about to force her to divulge anything she wasn't; herself, willing to express openly.
He could wait. He could be patient.
Her timid voice broke out through the passing whistles of car engines and overall city music, catching Arthur momentarily off guard.
"Well… Arthur… I better get going. I have a long day tomorrow."
He stalled for a moment searching for the right response, allowing himself one last drag before flicking the remaining embers into the street. That's right. She must have a huge workload. He had seen her returning to her small apartment located above the deli carrying folders and multiple briefcases. She had started working late into the night which had also thrown off the schedule Arthur had made. A schedule that helped him to catch small glimpses of her throughout the day. He had even waited until midnight one evening for her before she had practically thrown herself through the building's entrance.
"That's fine," He started. "Work for me is a bitch sometimes, too." He chuckled while holding eye contact with her. He didn't; or couldn't, understand how uncomfortable that made her feel. She responded with a sloppy sideways smile. It could have even been misconstrued as a grimace, if you knew how to properly read faces that is. But Arthur did not know how to gauge her smile other than to innocently register it as admoraition.
As she turned to walk away he shouted after her, "I'll see you at the next meeting, right?"
But her only response was a quick glance over her shoulder, nodding fervently as she made her way down the dark, dimly lit street.
He knew something had caused her to treat him so indifferently and he hoped…No He knew this wasn't the case; "let's not get carried away", that it hadn't been caused by anything other than her job. Maybe it was her boss. It wouldn't surprise him. But a voice spoke up suddenly through his reasoning. A voice that spoke at an aggravatingly rational pace. Maybe she had found out by some miraculous circumstance that he had been watching her from afar. Silently stalking her like a shadow during the setting sun.
"Never." He replied loudly to this intruding thought. And even if she had, well… she most certainly wouldn't mind it. Hell, she most likely would find it to be an endearing quality. But if she were to find out, now would not be the time. He had begun to like this one-sided game of cat and mouse.
Kendra couldn't have made it home any quicker. As she stumbled through her apartment door she subconsciously made to lock the deadbolt not once, not twice but three times. Giving it a forceful tug for good measure. She honestly had no idea why she was freaking out so much but what with the added stress of work getting to her, she had started to feel herself slipping into another depressive episode. "Fuck," she thought, "the meds were supposed to stabilize my moods", not send her into an overly dramatic downhill spiral. She felt like she was a passenger on one of those swinging rides at the carnival. The ones shaped like boats. Back and forth, back and forth. That's all her life ever was. An endlessly gyrating carnival ride upon the tempestuous sea of life. To make matters worse, the new "friend" she had unknowingly made at sessions had slowly begun to work his way into her mind. He seemed to have taken a liking to her. She was naive towards a lot of things but from the insatiable hunger that seemed to creep into his eyes whenever she was around, how could she not have taken notice? She hadn't even remembered his name up until tonight.
"Is he following me?" Her mind quipped before she could even stifle the thought. She stewed over all those times she had spotted a hooded figure looming in the shadows of buildings as she made her way too and from home day in and day out. As she absentmindedly threw her dirty clothes into a hamper, she gave herself chills at the idea of the man being outside her door at this very moment. Was she being too suspicious? Was this man even capable of stalking her? She knew he was in the group sessions for a reason though… After all, the group was formed with the sole purpose of helping people who had specifically sought treatment at a psychiatric hospital. But by the way the man had laughed raucously during their session one night, it didn't take much for Kendra to piece together just how broken this man's mind really was. He seemed nice enough though… After all, wasn't that all that mattered?
She made her way out of her apartment and down the steps to the built-in laundry facility in the basement, snickering quietly at herself for even bothering to lock the door behind her when she first got home.
"God I'm being paranoid." She chastised herself as she began the process of starting a new load of wash. She watched absentmindedly as the suds and water mixed together within the machine. She was being paranoid wasn't she? Why would this man choose to stalk her? Of all people at that. She wasn't anything special, really. Was she just being narcissistic? Someone in the group had talked about that once before. The idea of idealizing herself so much to the point of making up a secret admirer made her flinch in revulsion… No. She would not let her mind indulge itself in such a way.
Still, the idea of the man waiting for her outside with a chloroform soaked rag and body bag lingered menacingly in the back of her mind.
As the washer sputtered and churned, Kendra slammed the lid, grimacing at the way the machine rocked back and forth. "Piece of shit better not eat another pair of underwear", she sighed to herself. She turned towards the staircase, placing a single foot on the bottom step before pausing; sudden suspicion bubbling up within the back of her racing thoughts. She ran quickly to the hamper and began tossing articles of clothing here and there, looking for a specific pair of fabric she had not seen in weeks. Tossing cardigans and panty hose to the floor, she scoured the bin for a glimpse of the frilly pink bottoms she thought she had misplaced or lost to the gluttonous hunger that was the washing machine.
"It has to be here," she spoke loudly. "There's no way I would have lost them."
Unable to find the garment in question her heart had sunk into a deep, foreboding pit. The type of pit that held onto all the worst outcomes your mind could come up with for life's everyday situations… Will someone rob me? Shoot me? Murdered me? Will some random guy I met in a mental health awareness group break into my apartment building and steal my underwear?
No. She was just being paranoid… Not narcissistic at all.