The Black Rose

Too much, Too fast

Anna

I’m at my local Barnes & Nobles. The dream I had last night plays in my mind as I scan the rows of books for a new novel to get wrapped up in. I had awoken this morning to find a lovely pink handkerchief, with my initials stitched in gold thread, and a single black silk rose lying on my nightstand. The poem I had written for him was gone. I also found a small box on my car windshield which held my spare key and a message: Not yet.

I wonder what his words meant as I finally pick a book and began reading. After a few pages I decide I want to buy it. My eyes glance around absentmindedly and I spot him. He’s sitting in a chair at the end of the aisle with a bemused look on his face as he reads from a book. His clothing hasn’t changed much since the first time I saw him, the only difference being the peek of shirt under his jacket is now blue.

He glances up at me from the book he’s reading and I quickly shift my gaze to my book. I don’t want him to see that I have noticed him and frighten him away. I sit on the floor next to the book case, facing him and I continue to pretend to read my book. There’s only about ten feet between us.

From my downward gaze I can only glance up and see his lower legs. I realize the floor may not have been the best place to sit if I want to view him as well. I glance behind me, but there is no place for me to sit back there. My eyes turn back to him and I notice a small occasional table to his left. Maybe there’s a chair on the other side.

My heart beet quickens as I rise from the floor, my book in hand. His gaze is still on me and I have to force myself to look at the opposite row of books as I slowly walk towards him. When I reach the end of the aisle I see it, another chair. I open my book, pretending to read, and distractedly mosey over to it. Almost unaware that he’s watched my actions the entire time, I sit down.

As I turn a page in my book, my gaze drifts to him. He’s noticed. Shit! His eyes get wide for a millisecond then dart back to his book. I quickly look away but he stands and leaves me sitting there alone. As I watch him retreat, I can’t help wondering, “Just who‘s stalking who here?”

After a moment I resign myself to the fact that he’s not coming back and decide to just buy my book and leave. I’m slightly annoyed at him being so afraid of me.

Stalker

I’ve followed her to the book store. I think it’s best that I’ve given her back her key. I don’t want to rush things. When we’re finally able to be together, I want everything to be perfect, just like her.

I watch her walk slowly down the aisles, her fingers tracing a line over the books as she passes by them. She walks almost as if she’s asleep, communicating through her dream world to find the perfect book. Then she stops, her finger tips lightly touching the spine of one book. She picks up the book, opens it and begins reading silently to herself.

I figure if I stand there watching her read she’ll eventually notice, so I grab the first book I see and sit in a chair at the end of the aisle. The book I’ve somehow managed to grab is titled “The Follower”. I open to a random page and attempt to read some of it as I watch her, which is easier said than done.

As she stands there reading, her body sways from side to side, almost like she’s dancing. I imagine dancing with her on our wedding day; she would make a beautiful bride. I glance back to the book and notice a line in which the author writes the brand name of every article of clothing the character puts on: Banana Republic.

I roll my eyes and glance back up at her. She suddenly drops to the floor, facing me, sitting cross legged, and continues to read her book. Then she glances behind her, as if she’s looking for something or someone. She looks back to her book, but I can just make out that she’s actually looking up at me.

Anxiety rises in me then as I watch her rise from the floor. Her eyes gaze at the opposite row of books and she moves towards me. She sits next to me and continues to read her book. I can’t help but watch, wondering if she knows I’m here.

Her eyes glance to the side then and she sees me watching her. I’m sure the shock that registered on my face must have frightened her because she doesn’t stare for long. I rise form my chair and speedily flee from her presence all the while my mind screaming at me, you blew it!

How can I continue to watch her if she knows I’m watching her and makes that knowledge so deliberately obvious? Yet, how can I not? Her face haunts every thought I have, the taste of her lips and the feeling of her in my arms makes giving up this obsession imposable.

No, I’ll just have to be more careful or perhaps more confident. She’s not yet given me a reason to believe she would betray me and I’ve fallen for her so completely, I can’t imagine a day without seeing her. I just have to get used to her boldness, I tell myself, she’s too unique to let go of.