23 | Anchored

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↞[Ken]↠

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↞[Ken]↠

The sky looked like lava, and a cherry-red colored the clouds. It reminded me I had not touched Bloodborne in a long time. I left it in the middle of the campaign.

Luke had said, "after sunset." The sun was setting. Time remained before he would pick me. He was always punctual, so I just had to be patient. A lot of weeks passed since we spent time together, and I was yearning him. I was glad he asked me for a date before I asked him. With nothing planned, I was hesitant about the whole "promposal" bullshit. It was a social construct to torture all the wallflowers nation-wide, and prom would be worse. I should have finished my education in Japan.

At least, Luke will be by my side.

No wait, that was worse. Luke was "the popular kid" by all standards. Which meant too much attention, all on him — on us. The idea made me anxious and giggly, mostly anxious. I was giggly because of my anxiety. Stress-laughs.

I pulled the on the hem of my knitted sweater — a light-gray mock-turtleneck. The sleeves were longer than my arms. I did not remember Luke mentioning whether the restaurant was fancy. The risk of sticking out in a crowded place loomed over me, but I felt too jittery to change into a suit or some shit.

The ringing door-bell startled me from my thoughts. Christie was not at home, so I had to open the door. Even after reaching home-base with Luke, he still made me a nervous, bubbling mess. Even his thought was enough to provoke my anxiety.

I don't think this will ever change.

The door-bell rang again before I reached the front door. I twisted the knob and swung the door.

Not Luke.

I took a small step back.

Two men stood across the opened doorframe. The sight was not unfamiliar; black coat over a white button-up and matching black tie and trousers. And the same pair of tinted sunglasses to hide the gazes which have been tormenting me for months. It was too good to believe that I had paranoid-schizophrenia and hallucinated them. Even after Luke showed me the picture from Polaris.

Polaris.

I gripped on the door's edge and flung it, but I was too slow. I didn't see who stopped the door, but a lady emerged in front of me out of nowhere. Cloaked with a long black coat, hints of a navy blue dress peeked from the hem. She looked like she was in her thirties and had an unsettling grin plastered on her face. It heightened the wrinkles around her lips and eyes.

"Step back, or I'll scream," I threatened and looked at the guy's palm stopping the door from closing.

"Scream?" she said with a scoff. "Why would you scream? I'm just here to talk."

"I know who you are, and you've been stalking me."

"We are from Polaris." She flashed a business card in front of me. "Chesterfield's green energy—"

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