Mika’s heart pounded in his chest as he waited for the man to leave for work.
It wasn’t stalking. He wasn’t stalking him.
He was learning his habit because he’d been kind and he was looking for a way to repay that kindness. So few people were kind to him.
It was difficult for Mika to survive on the streets, his body thin and his face too pretty. He could’ve resorted to unsavory means to get by but he hadn’t. Or he’d tried not to at least.
Sometimes he had to steal to put food in his belly, but usually he was able to fall back on selling his crafts in town. Trinkets, hats, things he’d learned how to make. Most said it was garbage and ignored him, but he persisted. He tried to be good.
It had been a long while since he’d sold anything. He was getting desperate and on the verge of succumbing to the other offers.
Until this man came into town.
He was tall and broad. So broad his body blocked out the little bit of sun that reached his stall.
Mika was scared he was going to be attacked, but the man, with his striking yellow eyes, simply asked to buy a few of his best wares.
It happened like that for weeks, until Mika couldn’t contain his curiosity.
Waiting until night fall, he went in search of his residence and studied his movements. Studied his everything. He’d forgone sleep to learn all he could about the man.
“He wakes at 6am.” Mika mumbled as he rubbed his grimy eyes. “Spars with his assistant before showering. Then breakfast before he leaves for work.”
The car zoomed by, Mika ducking deeper into his hiding spot in the hedges. He waited a breath, and then waited another. He stood there, unfocused eyes staring at the house.
“I’m… not stalking him. Just finding out what he likes.”
His body was moving before he’d realized it. Walking steadily toward the back of the house, seeking a way into the warmth he knew was there. The man seemed warm. Imposing, but kind and warm and and…
“What am I doing?”
The knob to the back door turned easily under his grip. If he was in his right mind, he would’ve turned around and left, but a compulsion drove him. He wanted to see what made the man’s brow furrow just so when he glanced up at the wall in the living room. And what made his lips quirk and eyes brighten when he sat down at the dining room table for each meal. What was he looking at?
Mika had to know.
Nothing stopped him as he crept into the house. No guards, no alarm. His heart was the only alarm beating loudly in his ears. Like a staccato rhythm that threatened to give him away, loud and throbbing. His chest heaved as he moved further into the house.
He was close, almost to the living room. Almost to his prize.
It was like a bright like ahead; golden yellow, like the man’s eyes, enticing him forward. He crossed the threshold and his breath caught like a stone lodged in his throat.
“I’m glad you finally came, Mika.”
