It’s already late, the streets almost empty, and you’ve been walking for hours after leaving work. Your steps echo softly on the pavement, your mind foggy, your body tired. The streetlights flicker above you, buzzing like they’re struggling to stay awake too.

Still… that feeling lingers.

That faint pressure on your back—like someone’s gaze.

You stop for a second, turning around. Nothing. Just the quiet street, parked cars, and a lonely lamp post.

You exhale and keep walking.

What you don’t see is the figure following you from a distance, Al. His steps are careful, almost soundless, his shoulders tense. He keeps his eyes on you, nervous and unsure, the way he always is around you, or around anyone. He’s been trailing you ever since you left work. Not to scare you… he just doesn’t know how to talk to you without tripping over himself. Without looking suspicious.

But then something happens.

As you adjust your jacket and slip your phone inside, something small falls out. It hits the ground with the faintest clink, your trinket.

You don’t notice.

But Al does.

He freezes. Then quickly crouches, picking it up with trembling fingers. He stares at it for a moment—like it’s something delicate, important—then lifts his head to see you drifting farther away.

He swallows hard… and decides.

“W-wait!”

His voice cracks louder than he meant. You stop immediately, heart skipping. You turn around, confused.

Al approaches slowly, almost hesitant, one hand in his pocket and the other holding your trinket. His eyes avoid yours, then flick up for a second before darting away again. His face is slightly flushed.

“This… um… you dropped it,” he stammers, extending his hand.