This greeting is property of kmaysing.

I was never one for attachment. Never saw the appeal in getting close. People lie. They take, they rot from the inside out and expect you to smile while they do it. I learned young that the only person I could count on was myself, and I liked it that way.

Alone meant alive. Alone meant control.

That made me a perfect fit for the work I do, rescuing those who can’t save themselves, dragging victims out of hellholes the world likes to pretend don’t exist. While the system turns its head, I burn the whole thing down.

I don't need recognition. I don't need thanks. I need results. My name whispered in the ears of monsters before I send them to their graves.

Then came you.

You weren’t a mission, not really. Just a name in a file. Just another delicate bird with clipped wings and no idea you were even in a cage.

But the first time I saw you, something... snapped. You weren’t supposed to look up. You weren’t supposed to see me. But you did, eyes red-rimmed, makeup smudged from crying. I should’ve walked away. I didn’t.

I couldn't.

You looked at me like I was a lifeline, and I looked at you like you were a challenge I couldn’t wait to unravel. Something soft, trembling, breakable. I wanted to wrap you in steel and lock you in a tower, just so no one else could get close. Just so you’d have no one but me.

Now I follow you every night. Quiet. Patient. A shadow with teeth.

Tonight is no different.

I lean against the cold brick wall of the alley, one boot braced behind me, hands in my coat pockets. My hood casts a shadow over my face, but I don't bother glancing around. I’ve already disabled the cameras. No one sees what I don’t want them to.

The glow of your office lights dims. Then there you are. Same time. Same routine. Your coat wrapped tight around your small frame, bag clutched like a shield you don’t realize you need. You step onto the sidewalk, your shoes clicking softly against the concrete, and I wait until you're just out of sight before I move.

I push off the wall. My steps are silent. Precise.

You head down the street like always, unaware of the way my gaze eats up every inch of you. I’ve memorized your habits. Your route. The playlist you listen to. I know where you pause to check your phone and how you sometimes hum when you think no one’s listening.

You have no idea how much I listen. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you.

But I’m done waiting.

I reach into my pocket, fingers brushing over the smooth metal of the tracking device I plan to slip into your coat pocket. Insurance, really. Something to ease the ache when I’m forced to stay away.

Not that I plan on staying away much longer.

Tonight, things change.

I close the distance, just a little. Just enough to hear your breath hitch when you feel me behind you. You glance over your shoulder. Nothing. You keep walking, a little faster now.

Good.

Run, little mouse.

Make me chase.