before now to conduct your misdeed. So, are you ready
to admit you've been following me?”
He laughed nervously. “You must have an
overactive imagination. That's the only explanation for how you
came up with such a ridiculous idea from simply seeing me sitting
on a bench outside a store you happen to be shopping in.”
“Well, you are definitely more articulate,
but you're still a liar. I hope you don't pride yourself on your
stealth because you are horrible. By the way, I know you followed
me last night even after I asked you not too. Is that big oak
outside my apartment your preferred hiding place when you're spying
on young women?” She questioned, hoping she was a better liar than
she accused him of being.
Dumbstruck by her knowledge of what he
thought was the perfect vantage point for undiscovered protection,
he only gawked at her.
Megan changed subjects when she noticed she
wasn't going to get any answers. “Do you have to wear those shades
or are you trying to look mysterious?”
Appreciative of the change in subject and
her no longer grilling him about his stalking, he readily explained
his need for protective eye-wear even at this late hour. “I have an
extreme sensitivity to light. So yes, I wear them most of the
time.”
“It's not overly bright where we are in the
park, so could you stand to remove them?” She asked, hopeful she
would get a glimpse of his lovely blue eyes.
“I'll try.” He slowly removed his shades,
giving his eyes time to adjust.
She barely contained herself as his
memorizing blue eyes peered back at her. “That's better. Now we can
properly introduce ourselves and stop being only known as stalker
and stalkee. I'm Megan Miller.” She offered her right hand to
shake.
He frowned briefly at her offered hand,
squeamish to grasp it. Many months had passed without physical
contact, except to feed. “Dorian Gray,” he announced after finally
accepting her outstretched hand. The spark that ignited between
them enchanted and alarmed him at the same time. He hastily, but
grudgingly released his grip.
“Nice to meet you, Dorian. Now that the
formalities are out of the way, let's get back to the stalking,”
she blurted, trying to focus her own intense feelings.
He cursed silently. He hoped the stalking
subject wouldn't resurrect itself. He pondered whether to continue
to lie, avoid the subject, or tell the truth. If he told the truth,
he knew her next question would be why. He hadn't exactly figured
that part out yet. “I'm sorry to disappoint you but I haven't been
stalking you. I could though, if you'd like me too?” he responded,
smiling slyly.
Blood rushed to Megan's cheeks, threatening
to soon color them to match her hair. Too embarrassed to respond
with the YES she felt like screaming, she only returned his
smile.
They observed each other for a few silent,
awkward moments, neither able to look away, drawn to one another
like opposite ends of a magnet. Finally, he broke the gaze of her
moss green eyes. Eyes that transported him back to the forest of
his youth to a simpler time in his life; another world, one without
monsters. He reluctantly forced himself back to his current life in
a world where monsters were most definitely real and he was one of
them. Needing time to comprehend the feelings she elicited in him,
he suggested, “It's getting late. Would you like me to walk you
home?”
“Sure, thank you,” she replied, though far
from ready to end the evening.
He held open the outer door to her building
after walking her home in silence. “Goodnight. If you need me, I'll
be under the big oak.” He smiled, hoping that by turning the
stalking issue into a joke, she would let it go.
“Goodnight.” She smiled
back, hoping his last words were not just a joke. “I enjoyed my
evening. Maybe we should do it again, say, same time next week.”
Shocked over being uncharacteristically forward, she caught
herself, about to cover her mouth with her hand.
“Next week
to admit you've been following me?”
He laughed nervously. “You must have an
overactive imagination. That's the only explanation for how you
came up with such a ridiculous idea from simply seeing me sitting
on a bench outside a store you happen to be shopping in.”
“Well, you are definitely more articulate,
but you're still a liar. I hope you don't pride yourself on your
stealth because you are horrible. By the way, I know you followed
me last night even after I asked you not too. Is that big oak
outside my apartment your preferred hiding place when you're spying
on young women?” She questioned, hoping she was a better liar than
she accused him of being.
Dumbstruck by her knowledge of what he
thought was the perfect vantage point for undiscovered protection,
he only gawked at her.
Megan changed subjects when she noticed she
wasn't going to get any answers. “Do you have to wear those shades
or are you trying to look mysterious?”
Appreciative of the change in subject and
her no longer grilling him about his stalking, he readily explained
his need for protective eye-wear even at this late hour. “I have an
extreme sensitivity to light. So yes, I wear them most of the
time.”
“It's not overly bright where we are in the
park, so could you stand to remove them?” She asked, hopeful she
would get a glimpse of his lovely blue eyes.
“I'll try.” He slowly removed his shades,
giving his eyes time to adjust.
She barely contained herself as his
memorizing blue eyes peered back at her. “That's better. Now we can
properly introduce ourselves and stop being only known as stalker
and stalkee. I'm Megan Miller.” She offered her right hand to
shake.
He frowned briefly at her offered hand,
squeamish to grasp it. Many months had passed without physical
contact, except to feed. “Dorian Gray,” he announced after finally
accepting her outstretched hand. The spark that ignited between
them enchanted and alarmed him at the same time. He hastily, but
grudgingly released his grip.
“Nice to meet you, Dorian. Now that the
formalities are out of the way, let's get back to the stalking,”
she blurted, trying to focus her own intense feelings.
He cursed silently. He hoped the stalking
subject wouldn't resurrect itself. He pondered whether to continue
to lie, avoid the subject, or tell the truth. If he told the truth,
he knew her next question would be why. He hadn't exactly figured
that part out yet. “I'm sorry to disappoint you but I haven't been
stalking you. I could though, if you'd like me too?” he responded,
smiling slyly.
Blood rushed to Megan's cheeks, threatening
to soon color them to match her hair. Too embarrassed to respond
with the YES she felt like screaming, she only returned his
smile.
They observed each other for a few silent,
awkward moments, neither able to look away, drawn to one another
like opposite ends of a magnet. Finally, he broke the gaze of her
moss green eyes. Eyes that transported him back to the forest of
his youth to a simpler time in his life; another world, one without
monsters. He reluctantly forced himself back to his current life in
a world where monsters were most definitely real and he was one of
them. Needing time to comprehend the feelings she elicited in him,
he suggested, “It's getting late. Would you like me to walk you
home?”
“Sure, thank you,” she replied, though far
from ready to end the evening.
He held open the outer door to her building
after walking her home in silence. “Goodnight. If you need me, I'll
be under the big oak.” He smiled, hoping that by turning the
stalking issue into a joke, she would let it go.
“Goodnight.” She smiled
back, hoping his last words were not just a joke. “I enjoyed my
evening. Maybe we should do it again, say, same time next week.”
Shocked over being uncharacteristically forward, she caught
herself, about to cover her mouth with her hand.
“Next week
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