S T A L K E R

4

     He doesn't speak. His eyes stay on me as I interact with the interviewers. I'm scared but there's nothing I can do, he's at the head of the table book in hand writing down God knows what. I see him through my peripheral- he's doing it again. Watching, analyzing; it's like I'm a test subject and he's the scientist. I look at him and find him staring down the man who's been grilling me this entire time. Their eyes connect and he looks to the door before meeting the interviewers's gaze once again. It's a subtle dismissal. Not one  word spoken. He's that powerful, just being in the same room as him made me submissive.

    I keep my head down and await his response as the rest scramble out of the room. His fingers strum on the table. My leg nervously shakes on the floor. It's something I haven't been able to shake for the longest while, I fight the urge to bring my fingers to my mouth. I don't know why but it's like I want to cry, the tension is this room is suffocating. I've never met him before but the effect he has on me, it's dangerous. It's dark and it's scary.

     My heart pounds thumps against my chest as he gets up. He takes his sweet time walking around the desk and grabs the seat in front of me. I don't acknowledge him as he sits. As if I need his permission I don't speak. He crosses one leg over the other and releases a slow and heavy breath. I raise my stare to his chest. The vest  is hugging  his broad muscled chest. His veiny hand reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a thick cigar. The gold diamond ring on his pinky sends a stray glimmer of light into my eyes from the sun peeking into the room.

"Do I scare you?" His gravelly voice makes my chest vibrate. I take note of the way he begins to tap his fingers on the desk once I try to calm my racing heart. I timidly meet his stare. It's not dark this time. It's warm, it's comforting and it's soft but something else is there, something I can't decipher. Looking into his eyes is like watching a timer go off.

"No" my voice is barely a whisper. Something about him intimidates me. He looks so gentle now but my brain is telling me something. I can't put my finger on it yet I know it's bad. I don't want to make a bad impression, too many opportunities are riding on this.

"Does it bother you if I smoke in here?" I immediately look at the no smoking sign behind me. It's not large but it's noticeable. He's seems extremely important so who am I to tell him yes. Instead I shake my head no. He grips the cigar like you would a pencil and brings it to his lips. Two strong puffs and were engulfed in thick smoke. I love the scent, it suits him.

"You know I don't like non verbal gestures." What? I tilt my head in confusion and he still stares at me the same way with his disapproving eyes. It's the same until he goes to get up. I see the way his knuckles whiten when he grips the handles. He's upset. What did I do?

"I'm sorry! No, no I don't mind when you smoke."I hate doing this but it's something I've been reduced to. Whenever I did something my father disliked an apology was the quickest way to lessening the blows. It's easier when you surrender. It's better when you listen and observe and not speak and upset anyone.
Especially a man who's as big as this one and has a temper.

"Don't make it happen again Francesca." Francesca? Who's Francesca. It's all too obvious this man wasn't right in the head. The way he eyed me is like he knows me. He's reprimanding me, not the way you would do to a child but the way you'd do to an animal. Almost like he owned me and had to put me in my place. I never liked it when a man did this but with him it's different.

"Sir, my name is Azaelia." This was scary. I wanted to dash out of the room right then and there. Everything about this man made me on edge. I want to move but I can't. Those damn black eyes. They're so captivating so dark and sexy.

"Stop playing with me Francesca!"

The moment his eyes snap open realization sets in on his face.