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Description

Watching you is the only drug I need.

It was a chilly autumn night, the fallen leaves crackled under __’s feet as she hurried back home. She had just come back from Alfred’s house after a whole day marathon of scary movies and games, and she kept feeling like someone or something was following her. The flickering street lamps didn’t make the situation any better.

Suddenly she heard a loud rustling of leaves. Calm down __. There is nobody following you, this is a safe neighbourhood, nothing like that will happen. It’s just your imagination; it could be a squirrel or just the wind.

“Hey pretty girl, what’s a girl like you doing out here so late?” A southern drawl slithered from the darkness, as a brown-haired man holding a bat emerged from behind a tree. His red eyes gleamed, like a cat’s eyes, as he advanced towards her.

The red was like a danger sign screaming at her to run away. And run she did. But before she even made it 5 metres, a rough calloused hand jerked her back with a too-firm grip on her wrist, flinging her to the ground.

“My, my. Little girl is trying to run away. Did you want to play catch? I have sometime much more fun than that, care to join me?” He almost smirked, looming over her, as the glint of sharp nails on his bat caught her eye and she gulped. She definitely did not want to know what this maniac thought was fun.

But what could she do? Run away? He would definitely catch her. Stay? She would probably die. But she would probably die either way, might as well give it a shot.

“N—No, please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry, I won’t run away. Don’t hurt me.” She said, her voice quivering as she pretended to cower from him.

“Shut up you useless weakling. You deserve to be punished.” He said, grabbing her around the waist and roughly pulling her up, almost banging her face to his. His crimson eyes stared into hers, as he held her face in close proximity to his.

Suddenly he buckled over, clutching his stomach.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME YOU CREEP! I LIED, SORRY NOT SORRY, RUNNING AWAY NOW!” __ yelled, as she put all her force into a sucker punch to his gut, which she had to admit was pretty buff, considering her knuckles were aching. After which, she quickly dashed away, almost tripping over her own feet more than a few times. Curse her clumsiness.

Suddenly, a rough hand grabbed her arm again, dragging her back. As the slightly breathless southern drawl returned, his nails digging into her skin as he snarled,

“You little bi-”

“I think that’s quite enough mister. The lady does not seem to appreciate your ruffian actions, I suggest you let her go.” A calm voice interrupted the hoarse growl of her attacker. __ struggling to turn around, but was held in place by that freak, as his grip intensified, and she wondered if blood was even flowing in her arm anymore

“Get your own girl, she’s mine. Now fu-”

“Now now, there’s a lady in our presence, mind your language. I’d suggest you let go of her now. Do not make me repeat myself.” The voice dangerously calm, she could almost see the murderous glint in that stranger’s eyes.

“No. Now g-”

Suddenly the grip on her hand disappeared. And a loud thud as the psychopath hit the cold hard pavement, apparently knocked out by the stranger. Still shivering slightly, __ scrambled away from the stranger who was now advancing cautiously toward her.

“Calm down love, it’s alright, I won’t hurt you.” He said, a thick British accent apparent in his lilting voice. But it did nothing to calm the adrenaline pumping through her. “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME CREEP!” She shrieked, running away again as fast as she could. All she saw of him was a mop of blonde hair as the surroundings flashed past and she ran. Ran like when she realized she was late for Mr Beilschmits’s class, who was definitely someone you would not want to make angry.

Walking out of the darkness, the blonde scuffed his tousled hair “What am I doing? Why did I follow her again? Now look she’s probably scared of me.” he groaned, as he watched __’s fast retreating back. He even restrained himself when all he wanted to do was kill that asshole who tried to hurt her.

Just then a purple shoe caught his eye, it seemed __ had not noticed it fell off. Picking it up, he chuckled to himself at how clumsy she was. __ was always dropping things and was perfectly capable of falling down on flat ground, a feat he had seen her perform countless times, after which she would look around sheepishly, hoping no one saw her. But he always did.

“It seems my dear Cinderella has lost her glass slipper, I guess it’s only right that I return it.” He mumbled to himself, as he started the walk down to the house that he stopped at almost everyday at 8 o’clock, watching __ as she stepped into her house, after a long day at work.

Sometimes she would be hours late, looking so pale, as if she could fall over and break into tiny smithereens any second, like a fragile porcelain doll. Times like that Arthur would reach out from wherever he was, yearning to wrap his arms around her, to keep her safe. But he couldn’t. That would creep her out, she would never want to see him, she would hate him. And he couldn’t have that.

Sometimes she wouldn’t come home, and he wouldn’t leave till she crossed her front door the next morning. Time like that, he would wish he could crush her to him, just to make sure she was real, that she was safe. But he would clench his fists tightly, telling himself, “No, stop. She is safe. Now leave. Don’t you dare go close to her. Don’t let her see you. She will hate you. Go.”

He knew her favorite songs, the countless times she had fallen asleep under the tree while reading that same book over and over again, how she always wore sock shoe sock shoe, how she shoved her vegetables to the side during lunch when no one was looking and how she had exactly twenty-one bracelets, 8 on her left arm and 13 on her right arm.

He knew how she would spend hours at the park playing with the children, smiling and laughing without a care in the world. He knew how she always saved up her money, sometimes skipping lunch, so that she could buy presents for the children at the orphanage for their birthdays. He knew how she absolutely terrified of dogs yet loved German Shepherds. He knew how she would never let anyone take advantage of her and being different never bothered her.

He probably knew more about her than she knew herself. But he never knew the warmth of her skin. Never knew the electricity of her emerald eyes gaze.

Once he saw the glow illuminate from her room on the ground floor, he would force himself to leave, sometimes allowing himself one last glance back at that blue door that he had once watched __ spend hours painting and drawing on.

Why did he do this?

Making sure she was safe… That was all… He didn’t need her to know him, he didn’t need her to love him, he just wanted to make sure that no one would hurt this precious treasure of his. At least that’s what he told himself.

The next morning, __ would find her purple shoe on her doorstep, along with a crumpled receipt. She would frantically look around for him, but would not see him sitting in his car, as he watched her behind tinted car windows.

She would then notice her name written on that receipt and smooth it out.

In a hurried loopy writing, it read

To __.

I’m sorry if I terrified you yesterday. Please don’t hate me, I honestly just want you to be happy and safe.

You won’t ever have to see me again, I promise. You don’t have to worry about meeting me. I’ll keep my distance.
I’ll just be watching you, protecting you. Why? I don’t know. But to me, you are a precious treasure that I want to protect from the world. Make sure no one can soil you with their filth. Never let your happiness die.

So just remember, I’m always watching you. Protecting your smile. Forever and always.

Love,
Arthur

Description

Watching you is the only drug I need.

It was a chilly autumn night, the fallen leaves crackled under __’s feet as she hurried back home. She had just come back from Alfred’s house after a whole day marathon of scary movies and games, and she kept feeling like someone or something was following her. The flickering street lamps didn’t make the situation any better.

Suddenly she heard a loud rustling of leaves. Calm down __. There is nobody following you, this is a safe neighbourhood, nothing like that will happen. It’s just your imagination; it could be a squirrel or just the wind.

“Hey pretty girl, what’s a girl like you doing out here so late?” A southern drawl slithered from the darkness, as a brown-haired man holding a bat emerged from behind a tree. His red eyes gleamed, like a cat’s eyes, as he advanced towards her.

The red was like a danger sign screaming at her to run away. And run she did. But before she even made it 5 metres, a rough calloused hand jerked her back with a too-firm grip on her wrist, flinging her to the ground.

“My, my. Little girl is trying to run away. Did you want to play catch? I have sometime much more fun than that, care to join me?” He almost smirked, looming over her, as the glint of sharp nails on his bat caught her eye and she gulped. She definitely did not want to know what this maniac thought was fun.

But what could she do? Run away? He would definitely catch her. Stay? She would probably die. But she would probably die either way, might as well give it a shot.

“N—No, please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry, I won’t run away. Don’t hurt me.” She said, her voice quivering as she pretended to cower from him.

“Shut up you useless weakling. You deserve to be punished.” He said, grabbing her around the waist and roughly pulling her up, almost banging her face to his. His crimson eyes stared into hers, as he held her face in close proximity to his.

Suddenly he buckled over, clutching his stomach.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME YOU CREEP! I LIED, SORRY NOT SORRY, RUNNING AWAY NOW!” __ yelled, as she put all her force into a sucker punch to his gut, which she had to admit was pretty buff, considering her knuckles were aching. After which, she quickly dashed away, almost tripping over her own feet more than a few times. Curse her clumsiness.

Suddenly, a rough hand grabbed her arm again, dragging her back. As the slightly breathless southern drawl returned, his nails digging into her skin as he snarled,

“You little bi-”

“I think that’s quite enough mister. The lady does not seem to appreciate your ruffian actions, I suggest you let her go.” A calm voice interrupted the hoarse growl of her attacker. __ struggling to turn around, but was held in place by that freak, as his grip intensified, and she wondered if blood was even flowing in her arm anymore

“Get your own girl, she’s mine. Now fu-”

“Now now, there’s a lady in our presence, mind your language. I’d suggest you let go of her now. Do not make me repeat myself.” The voice dangerously calm, she could almost see the murderous glint in that stranger’s eyes.

“No. Now g-”

Suddenly the grip on her hand disappeared. And a loud thud as the psychopath hit the cold hard pavement, apparently knocked out by the stranger. Still shivering slightly, __ scrambled away from the stranger who was now advancing cautiously toward her.

“Calm down love, it’s alright, I won’t hurt you.” He said, a thick British accent apparent in his lilting voice. But it did nothing to calm the adrenaline pumping through her. “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME CREEP!” She shrieked, running away again as fast as she could. All she saw of him was a mop of blonde hair as the surroundings flashed past and she ran. Ran like when she realized she was late for Mr Beilschmits’s class, who was definitely someone you would not want to make angry.

Walking out of the darkness, the blonde scuffed his tousled hair “What am I doing? Why did I follow her again? Now look she’s probably scared of me.” he groaned, as he watched __’s fast retreating back. He even restrained himself when all he wanted to do was kill that asshole who tried to hurt her.

Just then a purple shoe caught his eye, it seemed __ had not noticed it fell off. Picking it up, he chuckled to himself at how clumsy she was. __ was always dropping things and was perfectly capable of falling down on flat ground, a feat he had seen her perform countless times, after which she would look around sheepishly, hoping no one saw her. But he always did.

“It seems my dear Cinderella has lost her glass slipper, I guess it’s only right that I return it.” He mumbled to himself, as he started the walk down to the house that he stopped at almost everyday at 8 o’clock, watching __ as she stepped into her house, after a long day at work.

Sometimes she would be hours late, looking so pale, as if she could fall over and break into tiny smithereens any second, like a fragile porcelain doll. Times like that Arthur would reach out from wherever he was, yearning to wrap his arms around her, to keep her safe. But he couldn’t. That would creep her out, she would never want to see him, she would hate him. And he couldn’t have that.

Sometimes she wouldn’t come home, and he wouldn’t leave till she crossed her front door the next morning. Time like that, he would wish he could crush her to him, just to make sure she was real, that she was safe. But he would clench his fists tightly, telling himself, “No, stop. She is safe. Now leave. Don’t you dare go close to her. Don’t let her see you. She will hate you. Go.”

He knew her favorite songs, the countless times she had fallen asleep under the tree while reading that same book over and over again, how she always wore sock shoe sock shoe, how she shoved her vegetables to the side during lunch when no one was looking and how she had exactly twenty-one bracelets, 8 on her left arm and 13 on her right arm.

He knew how she would spend hours at the park playing with the children, smiling and laughing without a care in the world. He knew how she always saved up her money, sometimes skipping lunch, so that she could buy presents for the children at the orphanage for their birthdays. He knew how she absolutely terrified of dogs yet loved German Shepherds. He knew how she would never let anyone take advantage of her and being different never bothered her.

He probably knew more about her than she knew herself. But he never knew the warmth of her skin. Never knew the electricity of her emerald eyes gaze.

Once he saw the glow illuminate from her room on the ground floor, he would force himself to leave, sometimes allowing himself one last glance back at that blue door that he had once watched __ spend hours painting and drawing on.

Why did he do this?

Making sure she was safe… That was all… He didn’t need her to know him, he didn’t need her to love him, he just wanted to make sure that no one would hurt this precious treasure of his. At least that’s what he told himself.

The next morning, __ would find her purple shoe on her doorstep, along with a crumpled receipt. She would frantically look around for him, but would not see him sitting in his car, as he watched her behind tinted car windows.

She would then notice her name written on that receipt and smooth it out.

In a hurried loopy writing, it read

To __.

I’m sorry if I terrified you yesterday. Please don’t hate me, I honestly just want you to be happy and safe.

You won’t ever have to see me again, I promise. You don’t have to worry about meeting me. I’ll keep my distance.
I’ll just be watching you, protecting you. Why? I don’t know. But to me, you are a precious treasure that I want to protect from the world. Make sure no one can soil you with their filth. Never let your happiness die.

So just remember, I’m always watching you. Protecting your smile. Forever and always.

Love,
Arthur