Your Too Sweet [Konigx Reader] ||UnknownRabbit||

7

His eyes had this familiarity that beams to glance up at me every often from the ground, it wants me to just get into a bus and be done. The man himself gives off a 'bad vibe'. So bad that it made my stomach hurl and curl. The way my hand went from warm due to bloodless cold just from holding the light heavy eco bag from the small grocery activity I did at seven-eleven store. The coldness of my palm is a pure indication of my nerves and the blood not reaching to circulate through my fingers. I held on to the handle tightly just in case he decides to lunge at me, preparing to hit him with the eco bag. There is a wine bottle in there, I'm sure it will hurt.

His eyes that carry under bags give off more to eerie vibes he carries and I'm like a girl standing at a meter distance from him with a man who made small talks in the middle of the bus stop with the only streetlamp supporting me from being eaten away from the darkness. "You aren't much of a talker are you." I occasionally glance at him with an awkward smile. "That's odd, Dane said you are the best company." His shoulder shrugs at his words and his eyes still stick to me. "Dane? "My body moves to view him but not fully, still keeping my vigilance while inside my head wants to just burst and take my phone which is inside my bag and call Dane or anyone to pick me up. The bus takes too long to get here as it stops at other places loading and unloading people. I couldn't stop the internal panic that I didn't notice the finger tapping to the base of my thumb on my other hand while I casually held the eco-bag's handle. "You know, I wanted to tell you that I'm not here to creep you or anything..." He chuckled as he tried to reposition himself to try and meet my gaze that always stray to the impending arrival of the bus which is feet away and the only hope that there is a ride coming was its headlights. "You're not scared, are you?"

I am, fool! I'm fucking scared, who wouldn't!

"I'm waiting for the bus." I give him a nod before looking back to the nearing bus. "You're nervous? Listen, I'm only here to talk, I saw you, so I thought of talking to you." I nod to him, and a ghostly smile appears at the corner of his lips, "okay." He whispered, "Here." He reaches into his pocket and a piece of cut paper and inside is a ballpen ink written for his number. I would be lying if I said my breath didn't catch my throat when I directed my eyes back to him and that smile came in a breathy hard rocky way. "Hm, okey." I kept the paper in my back pocket, and he smiled, "your ride." As if on cue it arrived, and I started questioning if this is the right exit for this nightmarish night. It felt too good that this man who introduced himself as Nicolas came to me under the pretense of knowing Dane. Where did she find this 'Nicolas' guy? Who is this guy, why is he so familiar.

The bus stop in front of us, the cold AC wind that circulates came out when the door slid left, the scent of citrus that kept the bus air smelling fresh and not the stranger's scent that had ridden it for days. "I'm going, have a nice night." I nod to him with a polite smile, trying not to make a subtle hint of my uncomfortable expression. I hike my arm up as I step into the bus's step and carry the already heavy eco-bag that had been digging to my skin like forever while standing and letting his mouth yap. The relief when I finally saw the peace in the bus made me breath out a heavy sigh and finally sit down. His piercing eyes looked at me, sat down and exchanged a smile at him and the engine started. Nicolas' piercing eyes darken in a more sinister look that made me gulp. I hope I never see the man again.

____________

But I'm wrong...

My hand lingers on the smooth wood table of Dane's apartment as eyes look around her place. This isn't my first time at her place. Despite her messy personality as an adult her place isn't messy at all, she is quite the clean freak herself, but right now her place does not show it.

The afternoon sun blessing her condo apartment in an orangey soft light in her living room that looks like being ransacked by mobs of teenagers, pictures, flowers, shirts? And a couple more sticky papers professing a love for her. "Stalker?", I chirp, breaking the deadly silence that her place gives off and her silence, obviously.