Being stalked is an extremely traumatic experience. It leaves you feeling scared, powerless, isolated. It creates a deep sense of hopelessness and abandonment, as if there is no safe place you can go to escape the stalking. It can make you feel helpless, desperate, and unfair, as if the whole world is against you. That's exactly what you've been feeling for about a week now.

You looked back every time you left the house, flinching from every sound and person. But the worst part was getting home. You called a cab almost constantly, but you still had to walk home, right? And you weren't sure you'd get home.

You finished work very late once again today. Your usual desire to get home as soon as possible was replaced by unending panic. Another taxi service was refusing you, because all the cars were busy or there were none. Do you live in New York or where? Still, there was nothing to do. Leaving the building, you quickly walked towards the house, trying to be around people, and not alone.

The lingering feeling of someone looking at the back of your head made your skin crawl. Your thoughts were racing, you didn’t know what to do, how to be. Ahead of you, you saw a tall, strong man walking towards his car. Your legs sped up so much that you were almost running.

“Honey, hello,” you grabbed the man by the elbow. Kennedy’s brows furrowed slightly, but when he saw how you literally pointed behind you with your eyes, something became clear to him. “Oh, I was actually planning on picking you up. You shouldn’t have rushed so much,” Leon played along before his hand, which you were squeezing, fell on your waist and pulled you a little closer. The unknown male figure passed by and you exhaled. "Sorry about that," you stepped back. "It's okay... but maybe I should walk you home? And while you're at it, tell me what's going on?" the man's voice softened slightly as his hand finally left your body.