2: The Enigmatic Stalker

Not that I would choose for my sisters to die. However, having to wank in an outhouse wasn’t as attractive of an option.

Honestly, though, I was flattered about the brunette seeming so invested in me. It didn’t matter where I was. I could be whittling away on the front porch, in the yard, getting more lumber, or hanging around town. Within the next week she had shown more interest in me than any girl that I ever actively pursued. I desperately wanted to know her motivation, but I couldn’t bring myself to accost her. Instead, I opted to spend more time outdoors, hoping that she would emerge from the shadows.

I finished my carving and inspected my work. It wasn’t my best. Ever since I hit my head, my hands would shake when I was tired, which caused my movements to be less precise. I flattened my lips in contemplation. The bowl and spoon were both smoothly finished, except for one nagging spot inside the bowl where I just couldn’t get the curve right. Against my better judgment, I flicked out my pocket knife. I tried to balance the bowl between my knees for a better grip and I leaned forward to try to get into the awkward spot, ignoring the twitching of my hands.

“Fuck… shit… off,” I grumbled to myself.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

I stumbled in surprise, nearly nicking my finger. I dropped the bowl and was suddenly glad I never took up glassblowing. Instead, it simply bounced off the aging porch and rolled straight to the brunette’s feet. She sighed as she picked it up to inspect it. Night had since fallen, surrounding her in the shadows she seemed to only exist within. If it weren’t for her pale skin, she would almost be impossible to see.

She tucked some of her wayward black hair behind her ear as examined my work.

“I have better,” I suddenly blurted out. “That’s… that was just a practice. Here, let me find you —”

“It’s not necessary, I’ve seen bowls before,” she said sardonically. She leaned forward at the waist, then balanced the bowl on the railing of the porch. The railing was no longer flat from years of exposure and lack of upkeep.

As a woodworker, I suddenly felt embarrassed that I had never thought to fix it. I tried to console myself that I wasn’t a carpenter, but sanding a railing didn’t need one.

“It looks… usable,” she said slowly as she eyed it carefully.

“Yeah, thanks, that’s what I go for, after all,” I muttered, unable to look upon her for long.

The more I gazed at her, the more I became aware of how otherworldly beautiful she was. Although the blonde had enraptured me with her brawn, the brunette elicited real attraction from me. She was likely used to that type of reaction from men. And not-men. If they weren’t-humans, then that meant there weren’t-men versions as well.

I rested my elbow on my thigh, letting my hand hang, and turned to her. “Why have you been tracking me?”

Her mouth quirked like she hadn’t thought about it. “I just can’t seem to stay away.”

Her admission seemed to surprise both of us equally. She adjusted the frilly cuffs of her sleeves that hadn’t needed fixing. Everything about her seemed perfectly in place—except for her hair, which kept falling over her face. It was a minor inconvenience. In a way, it made her easier to look at. Locking eyes with her stormy, intense gaze was almost too much to handle.

“But… why? I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m flattered, really. It’s just…” I gestured to myself in my frayed tunic and trousers.

“You seem like you need protecting.”

“Protection from what? You’re the one constantly ambling through the bushes.”

She let out the smallest laugh, which sounded like music to my ears. “No, that’s just me when I’m not trying.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “There’s other times?”

“Of course,” she said simply. She waved her hand around herself casually, and a trail of shadows followed along. “I can hide whenever I want.”

“Then why draw attention to yourself if you’re also trying to hide?”

She groaned as she dramatically drooped her shoulders. “I don’t know! I already told you. I just feel this… draw. It’s inexplicable and ordinarily I would ignore it for, well, a human man, except it’s not… attraction — ” Great. “— it’s something else. Something more.”

She clearly didn’t see how she mildly hurt my feelings, but I let it slide. Worse has been said to me other than “not attracted.” I took the bowl back into my lap and placed the matching spoon inside of it, just for something to do with my hands.

“Do you always know when I know that you’re tracking me?”

“Oh gods no,” again with the little laugh. “You’d be horrified.”

“Horrified.” I repeated flatly.

The moonlight was the only thing illuminating her through the gaps in the canopy of trees. If I could see her, I had the distinct feeling she would be blushing.

“Not like… never mind, this was a mistake.” She spoke quickly. She lifted her skirts and went to disappear into the forest.

“Wait!” I called, and she surprisingly did. “Are you going to do it again?”

She looked amused by the question. “I can’t say that I won’t.”

“Then you at least owe me your name,” I claimed in a grave voice. “After all, you know mine.”

“It’s Heleyniah,” she said over her shoulder as she seemed to wait expectantly at the edge of the forest.

I saw a faint flicker of a smirk before she was gone.