Because, Brett... [BxB]

Chapter 5: Saturday 16th

The weeks come and go in a blur of my own anxiety and trepidation eating away at me. The mysterious blue eyes have also been a constant worry and I'm coming to realise that maybe there's more to this than I'd originally anticipated and maybe I'll never escape them as they just draw nearer and nearer. Soon, I'll be drowning in their vast expanse.

Much to my contempt, Elijah has been my rock. Letting my anxiety get the better of me, I had asked him to walk me to the station after work the day after the letter arrived. During the walk, I told him about the contents of the letter and about the stalker, explaining to him the odd sensations I would get, like I could feel eyes burning holes in my flesh. At first, he joked, asked me, 'Why the fuck are you a stripper then?'. But as I started to unravel the events, to tell him about every time I'd see a dark hoodie and a man skulking away, back into the shadows, his teasing smile was replaced with an unimpressed frown. That night he'd said, 'If you see them again, you tell me and I'll take care of it.'

I did see those eyes again, however, I never told Elijah, it was never enough to bother him with. This R, or whoever he is, always slipped away before anyone noticed he was there. If I'd told Elijah, the overprotectiveness would've grown more intense and I'm under enough stress as it is.

 Since that first night, he has been meeting me at the station every day before work, insisting on escorting me 'just incase'. And after work, like the gentleman he thinks he is, he walks me back, through the eerie darkness of the night.

For weeks he's been kind, saying the words, 'I'll take care of ya,' as he guides me down the streets. I let him wrap his arm around my shoulders when I'm frightened. I let him pull me into his side. I let his fingers snake down subtly until they're only inches from my ass. He probably thinks that somewhere down the line he might actually have a chance with me, and I don't know why, but to a certain extent, I let him.

At the moment, he's a familiar hand to hold in a world full of shadows. I think, in a way, I need that.

Today, as we walk down the street side by side nearing starbucks, I'm in an anxiety-ridden state. Elijah had insisted that he came with me, 'I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you,' he'd said.

With a nervous exhale, I pull my phone from my pocket. 12:14 Saturday 16 February, it reads. It's not long now until I meet the man who, in a little less than a month, has shaken my confidence to the very core. Elijah says he's a parasite that needs a good stomping until he leaves me alone. And even now, I dread to think what Alice would say if she knew my situation. Probably something pretentious or just downright condescending. Something along the lines of, 'Well if you'd gone to university maybe you wouldn't be in a job that encourages the kinds of people who stare at you without reservation.' She'd pin the entire thing on me as if I'd gone out personally inviting stalkers to the party.

"Everything'll be fine," Elijah's voice penetrates the abyss of my spiraling thoughts and it's only now that I realise we're basically on Starbucks' doorstep, "c'mon."

He ushers me into the warmth. We both look about the place, searching for somewhere to sit as we fiddle with the zippers on our winter coats. The rich scent of coffee and cake stains the air and the liveliness of the lunchtime rush is almost infectious. Teenagers brush past in a hurry with milkshakes in hand, spewing something about how Jamie is a dickhead.

"Do you want me to grab you anything?" Elijah asks.

"No, I'm ok." He nods reluctantly before making his way through a mass of occupied tables to reach the ones at the back. I follow him until he's seated, but then, I keep walking. "I don't think we should sit together," I say.

"What if the guy tries to hurt you?" He retorts.

"You'll be right here."

Gifting him a gentle smile, he nods defeatedly but I can sense that he understands. I need to be the one to face this. My stalker. My problem.

Once I'm settled with my coat hanging limply off the back of my chair and Elijah watching from behind a cup of coffee two tables over, I know I'm ready.

I wait.

12:30 I had told R, 12:30 on Saturday the 16th. That's today -  I check my watch - ten minutes ago and counting. I glance up to search for those azures watching my every move but they're not. The baristas are busying themselves with customer after customer and groups of friends gossip over irrelevant topics. I'm the only one alone.

As more time passes, eventually, I feel a presence next to me. "Here, just how you like it." I watch as the coffee is set in front of me by rough, calloused fingers. Elijah.

"He'll be here," I reassure him. And me.

"I know he will," Elijah pushes the coffee further towards me, urging me to take a sip before retreating to his table to watch the scene play out.

I lean back in my chair and stare down at my coffee as I murmur the words under my breath, "The psycho has got to come, otherwise I'll lose my fucking mind."

+ + +

"Hi?"

I'm dragged out of my reverie by a deep voice and the harsh scraping of chair legs against the ground. I take a sip from my latte before setting it down to look at the man before me. When my eyes catch his, he grins fully, and honestly, I'm a little taken aback.

"You're R?" I ask, leaning back in my chair just enough to take in his whole image. Soft looking brunet hair, strong build, hazel eyes.

Not what I was expecting.