"Ive got my eye on you." A Tribetwelve x Male Reader Story

"Seventeen hours and twenty-three minutes."

The drive was long, uncomfortable and exhausting. You didn't want to do the drive, yet here you are; suitcase in the backseat, driving for what felt like eternity...
How long ago had it been since you had saw the moving van drive past you? Good question, because you certainly didn't keep track.

But the pain was nearly over, soon you'd soon be able to rest in a place that wasn't your car.

Your hands on the wheel, eyes glaring at the road, as if you were holding a grudge against it for keeping you driving for so long; even though you were the one who chose to in the first place...

Phone playing music that you had saved on your phone:

'Teach Me How To Dougie'

You sigh, you've probably heard this song 20 times now over the past 17 hours. It probably didn't sound like much, but the amount of songs that was downloaded on your phone, it made it just feel much worse.

•—————————————————————•

You're parked, you're 99% sure that this is the house. But the doubt is of course still there...

But why would you doubt it? It's the same house from the pictures, the same one you went to get a tour through to make sure that you liked it; so what was so off-putting?

It was the neighbour. Yes, the neighbour. It was a greasy looking man, waving his camcorder around as he walked around his own home.

There has to be something wrong with my directions.

You were in denial, cause when you looked back at your directions and papers for the place, it was the exactly same one in front of you.

This is your neighbour. And you'd just have to deal with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The car keys jingled as you turned off the engine, opening the car door and stepping out, setting your black Nike trainers onto the concrete that layered the driveway. In a swift and somewhat hurried fashion, you open the door to the backseat, grabbing the handle of your suitcase and pulling it out with a harsh tug.

You lock up your car, dragging the suitcase across the pavement towards the front door.

As you twist the lock to your front door, the feeling of being watched crept up your spine...

Glancing towards the home that belonged to your neighbour, you're greater with his camcorder directed at you from a distance. Taking no chances, you open your door and dart inside, taking the suitcase with you as you twist the lock in the keyhole again, locking it.

You knew you were safe.

But you could never be so sure.

Each step up the stairs felt loud...

...creek...creek....creek...

You reached the landing; 3 rooms.

A bathroom, a bedroom, and a spare room that was a lot smaller, most likely to just be used for a storage cupboard or something.

Of course there was no furniture inside, except for in the bathroom.

The bedroom was pretty spacious, most likely enough space for all of your posters and albums, and furniture, but that wasn't as important; at least not to you..

A new start, away from it, away from everything and every trace of what was your old life in New Jersey. Whether it would last or not, was an answer nobody could answer...

Welcome to Florida.