Ducking behind a parked car, I waited as he crossed the street at the nearest corner. He glanced sideways but didn't glance back. Perfect. He wasn't aware of me surreptitiously following him.
Suddenly this very annoying sound started to bother my ears and my cover was almost blown, for he turned around to check on it. I threw myself on the ground, before he could take a really good look at me, and was very careful at that, because I for once did not want to spoil my clothes.
Realising what kind of noise that was, I just glared at the monster in front of me. Stupid car alarm system.
To my right, a stimuli in the form of a pair of eyes staring right into mine, caused a reaction from my own neurological system.
"Shit." I muttered. "You scared me." I closed my eyes for a moment, to prevent my heart from bursting.
"Excuse me, but you seem to be behind my car."
"Certainly." I told him, as he helped me up. "If this is your car." Eyeing his car briefly, I inspected the vicinity for my prey. Apparently, he'd walked into a coffeehouse just a few paces away from the corner I'd seen him crossing.
"Well, yes." Came his hesitant answer, as he also eyed his car, only gloomily. "Why, is there something wrong with it?"
"Not at all." People tend to act a bit too emotional over their cars. I smiled, motioning for him to step aside so I could resume the hunt.
"Hey, aren't you the lead singer in Dasher?" He asked, watching me closely once again.
No. "No." Well, yes. But I refuse to be in Dasher outside Dasher. If I were awfully dramatic, I'd say I refuse fame. Hell, I'm dramatic all right. So I refuse it. Especially when I'm under cover. Meaning when I dress up and go out stalking strangers, or how my brother would put it. But I was not dressed up. I was just not… too idle or late for nothing but a scarcely detectable glance towards a mirror, while not standing in front of it, or how I usually get ready for anything.
That day, my attire consisted of a burgundy velvet pullover, purple linen trousers, tartan faux leather ankle boots and a small green Greek fisherman cap. Tremendously Scottish, when I was really going for KGB-ish. Well, that's geopolitics for you.
"Are you sure?" After shutting off the damned alarm system, he started mumbling, blocking my path.
Am I sure of who I am? Gee, I don't know. But I do not wish to bore you with my problems right now.
"Look, I'm sorry, I have a prey to catch." I started walking away, without realising he was clung to my arm.
"Really? Where are you going?" He sounded curious, almost friendly. I looked up at him to find him looking around, as if we were strolling peacefully along a park. I don't do parks. Well, not anymore. Not since I encountered some pretty liberal teenagers engaging on certain suspicious activities, and I'm not one to easily impress.
"I said prey, not train." My eyes surveyed the streets as I waited for the traffic light until finally crossing the street hurriedly.
"Yes, that's what I thought. But then I thought it'd be too strange a thing to say." Confusion forced his muscles into a frown.
"It's the truth, cara mia." Giving a non-committal shrug, I walked up to the coffeehouse entrance, staring at it through its glass doors. Finding him was difficult, it was a sunny day out. Chilly, windy, but still sunny. The sun rays reflected on the glass, impairing my sight.
"Cara mia? As in Gomez and Morticia? Husband and wife? Man and woman?" And impairing my concentration was aforementioned owner of car, who seemed to insist on following me. He emphasised the last word, lifting his eyebrows.
"Indeed." Grinning, I spotted his now familiar yet not so broad back, still in line. I made my entrance, Addams freak followed suit. "You know, I am not particularly captivated by your little exhibit of popular knowledge."
"Hey, you're the one with the offensive approach here!" He retorted.
I wasn't paying him any more attention, my trained eyes were now taking in all of his actions. I moved a little to the left, where I could see his profile clearly. He had this nose that, if it weren't on his face, I would surely have stated such a nose only looked good on Gogol. Seriously. Maybe that's why I'd started following him in the first place.
But upon closer inspection, he did look sort of suspicious. His movements, again the sideway glances. It was enough to put me on alert. I think I started sweating. Instincts came rushing alive. Century after century, the ever growing void there is between man and nature went crumbling down. I thought I could smell the tension, but it was probably just coffee.
As he was reaching for something in his pocket, I let a despairing cry out, followed by "He's got a gun!"
All faces were immediately turned to me, including the one of the guy standing by the presently deserted counter, holding his wallet. There was a long silence, during which some people took the opportunity to return from their personal hazes.
I shrugged and said "One espresso, please."
"Make that two." Addams guy piped up, reaching for his own wallet, while we both approached the counter. Suspect nought looked at me with raised eyebrows, I just sighed. I was so tired of getting that from people. He walked away and then proceeded to move out of the shop; I didn't ever stir, it didn't matter anymore.
"Two espressos!" Shouted this lady, who happened to be standing right in front of us, dressed in an oversized uniform. Oversized clothes made me depressed, for some reason. So I told Addams I was waiting at the table. Looking outside, this time through the nearest coffeehouse window, I couldn't see the sun anymore. Right, because the sun goes away the minute I step inside. I felt my mood sink a bit lower.
"Here we are." Addams arrived at the table holding two cute little red cups. I smiled at them, then at the scent greeting my nostrils, then at him.
"I'm Dekese, by the way." I outstretched my hand, waiting for him to shake it before I rapidly snatched a cup for myself.
"Leir." Finally giving me a name, he smiled back.
For the next few seconds, I just allowed myself to enjoy my drink. At the time, I didn't drink coffee as much as I do now; but every time I did it, I enjoyed it like there was no tomorrow. Especially on cold days. Much like the one we were having. With this in mind, I attentively watched the skies again. "Arn… looks like it's about to rain."
Leif, who on his part had just been staring at me, finished his cup with a nod. "And espressos are just too small."
I shrugged and finished mine. Laughing, I looked at him again. "You know, this is strange."
"Very." He was fast to agree.
"No, I mean… I'm always the first one to finish. Eating, drinking, everything."
"Well, espressos don't really count, do they? Nobody can sit through a espresso."
"My brother can."
"Then I guess he's the one with a problem." He said and grinned. Again I laughed, feeling a lot better. One of the reasons why I didn't drink coffee everyday was because coffee makes me hyperactive. Hyperactive as in nervous, hungry, loud… in short, all the sides of my personality I didn't exactly fancy.
"So Dekese… why did you lie to me about Dasher?" He asked, good humouredly.
"Only… you did."
"Can you blame me?"
"Yes. Well. I'm terrified of criticism." I told him.
"Are you?" He just laughed an innocent laugh.
"Don't laugh. It's…" I sighed. "It's pathetic, I know."
"But you're great!"
Please, stop it. "Right. Thanks."
"I'm not just saying it." He defended, sounding amused.
"I know, I'm not being disdainful. Let's talk about something else." I offered lightly.