Always Leave Him Wanting More
She walked, and walked, and walked. Nearly every single night, she walked the exact same route. He watched for her; on the same dark street that ran along a line of old apartments. She knew he watched her, she always saw him, yet this never deterred her. Neither knew the other, and so far neither had shown any other interest in the other.
As she passed him along the same street, she lowered the volume on the music that she always listened to while she walked. Secretly, she wished he'd approach. Secretly, she'd fantasize about different situations. Secretly, she had a tiny amount of hidden fear behind the mask that she wore as she passed him, barely sparing him a glance.
He watched her pass, always wondering why she never took another path. He stood against the wall, watching her whilst he took a puff from the ever-present cigarette that accompanied him at night. There was always that slight tug to approach her as she passed and inquire as to her reasons for never redirecting her route even though she knew that he watched her ever night. He suppressed the feelings, and instead formulated a way in his mind to approach her perfectly.
She was walking again tonight with the same headphones and the same alertness that she always carried with her. The night was cool and dark as ever, and the street lights that had gone out the previous week and had yet to be replaced gave it an eerie feeling. She ignored the feeling, and cast her usual glance to the opposite side of the street. The faint, slightly pleasant smoky aroma greeted her along with the same view of the man who watched her each night. Satisfied with that quick glance, she mechanically forced herself to look ahead at the empty street and keep walking and her somewhat brisk pace.
That was when he made his move. The moment she looked away, he counted to two and began his walk towards her in the shadows of the night. She did not hear his footsteps echo off the tall brick walls before he stopped, directly in her path and faced her.
She was not quite as startled as she maybe should have been, and she stopped, removing the headphones from her ears and gazing up for the first up-close glance of the man that she saw nearly every night. The scent of the cigarette was still strong, even though he'd gotten rid of it. She couldn't quite see the color of his eyes in the dark, but she could make out his somewhat gruff yet soft face behind a head of shaggy dark hair.
"You know," he said, allowing her the first listen to his deep, soft voice. "It's dangerous to walk the streets alone at night."
She blinked at him, letting no indication of an identifiable expression cross her features. "I am aware." She stated plainly, allowing him the first listen to her soft, calm voice.
There was a pause where she wondered whether she should walk around the man, who was only looked about 3 years older than she was at 16, or wait for the rest of what she knew he had to say. The moment she decided to walk he spoke again.
"There are only a few possibilities…" He murmured thoughtfully. She only raised an inquiring eyebrow and waited for him to go on. "You're either incredibly stupid to keep walking these streets," She gave him no look of offense as he continued calmly. "Very stubborn, or you want it."
She waited, wondering what he was referring to as 'it'. "What, may I ask, do you mean, 'it'?"
He'd expected this response, and a small trace of a smirk tugged at his mouth. "I mean, that you want someone to come after you… to take you away from this place where you wander the streets ever night."
She refused again to offer him anything other than her blank expression, but inside her intestines squirmed with the accuracy of his suspicions.
"I'm ruling out stupid, however." He said calmly.
"I wouldn't." She replied quickly.
He raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"
"You know nothing of me."
"Then perhaps you'd be interested in getting to know each other. Beginning, of course, with your name."
"Not before yours." She responded rapidly, proving that he should of course rule out the possibility of her stupidity.
He smirked slowly and admiringly. "Demon." He replied.
"Damon." She repeated.
"D-E-M-O-N." He spelled out for her, watching her eyes flicker towards his, as if wondering if he were joking. "And yours?" he continued, giving her no indication that he might be.
"It's not important." She answered.
He was startled by this reply, but, like her, he gave no indication of this. "You don't believe yourself to be important?"
"I believe I have a purpose, but not that it is important."
"You don't believe that every purpose is important than, as long as it's a purpose?"
"Only to some degree." She answered, beginning to walk past him now.
"And your name?" He asked to her back.
"I guess you'll just have to figure that one out on your own." She replied, not looking back.
He did not follow her, and she did not look back. He knew she'd return the next night, and he could wait until then.
A/N: A rather bland beginning to what I hope to be a not-so-bland story. Tell me what you think, and I'll write up another chapter soon.