The Enigma's Anomaly

Something

"So uh, you were a little angry yesterday," Gerard says, looking at me.

"Was I? Sorry, I just... sorry."

"And you lied a little bit."

"Oh, um, sorry. God, I keep saying that, sorry. Shit! You know what I mean," I say.

"Frank, do you dislike me or something? Are you afraid of all this shit that's happening with me, because-"

"No, that's not it. I'm just an awkward person, I don't meant to come off as rude."

"It's okay, I think it's endearing," he says. Does that mean he thinks of me as a friend? I brush that thought away.

I try to look at him, but it's really hard to look him in the eye after yesterday. I am so ashamed, and at the same time really attracted to him and I can't help it. I barely know him, but there's just something there. I've never felt like I wanted to be with someone because of who they are before. Not to this extent at least. Sure Gerard is hot and sexy but I really like him.

I like the way he drifts off when he's talking about things and starts rambling about things that have nothing to do with the topic. I like the way he smiles when he's talking to me, and I like the way he taps his fingers on the table when he's concentrating really hard. I want to tell him how adorable he is when he's smiles widely and how the way he tucks his hair behind his ear makes me crazy. I hate not hating him, but I like liking him.

He doesn't make sense to me. He's my anomaly.

~*~*~*~

After a week of tailing him, I haven't gotten a second opportunity to kill him. When I tried to get him alone at the office, his assistant was right outside. When I tried to get him into a dark alley there was already someone in there. Nothing seems to be working. I can't find any time to get him alone. A whole week and I can't get him to just die already.

One week becomes two. He's never alone, and I'm starting to realize that I'm not just the journalist interviewing him anymore. I'm his friend. He's my friend. He's actually my friend. I see him every day and he makes the whole day bright. It doesn't make sense. Why is he so pretty?

I know for a fact that he considers me a friend now though. He actually said it. He said specifically, and I quote, "You're a really amazing person Frank. I'm glad you and I met because I haven't had a friend as nice as you in forever."

How does one get over something like that?

I ask for an extension from my client, but I don't get a reply. It's been so long since I got this job. Almost three weeks. I had to take a different job, just a quick one, but it paid well enough for me to be able to pay rent with a little left over.

My 36 does become a 37 but it's not Gerard's blood that lands me there. It's some drug lord, so I don't necessarily feel guilty about killing him. If this particular job didn't pay twice the amount of my usual work I'd just throw it away, but I have that money to look forward to, and I can't do anything to hurt my reputation. I just can't. A reputation is all a man has.

I have to kill Gerard.

I've known him for a grand total of 16 days, and find myself still sitting in the same coffee shop. He's got me mesmerized in his words. I forget to write things down sometimes. I just want to watch him. I want to listen to him forever. I want to hear him at all hours of the day. I want to... I don't know, kiss him?

"You can't possibly be interested in what I'm saying," Gerard interrupts his own words and he looks guilty.

"What? No! Go on."

I keep biting my lip when I'm around him, and I don't know why. I never really do that, but for some reason I pick up the habit in his company. He mimics my lip biting every once in a while and I start to wonder if I'm the one copying him.

"You're just being nice," Gerard says.

I roll my eyes and put my hand over his on the table, "trust me, I think you're fascinating."

The instant my skin touches his, I feel a jolt of electricity and my heart stammers. I look down at my hand and remove it quickly feeling a little surprised at what I did.

"So what influences you? Like for your comic and shit?" I ask him.

"Um, I don't know. I keep forgetting that you're a journalist," He says. Oh no, he really does think of me as a friend. Not good. That's really not good. There are a lot of things about this predicament that are very not good. This counts as one of those things. Two weeks ago is a good example. I still can't believe what happened. I also can't believe that I did it a few times afterwards. Gerard's just so magical though.

I always try to send the thoughts away, but I cannot help myself. I like him. It's too late to deny that. He needs to go ASAP, or I will do something stupid. I can't keep him around if he's detrimental to my mission.

"I guess just things that I like? Music, movies?"

"What else? What about people?"

"Everybody has an influence. Just little things about everyone. Cute little quirks and stuff," he says. If I didn't know better I'd say he looked at me especially deeply while he said that. What am I fucking teenage girl? I am so hopelessly attracted to him, it's not even funny.

"So, uh, what are you doing later tonight?" he asks.

Wait, what did he just ask? No way.

"What?"

"I, there's, um, I have this fundraiser thing to attend tonight would you want to come, maybe?" He asks.

"What?" I repeat, I'm a little dumbfounded by his question.

He turns bright red and I think he realizes how that sounded because he quickly corrects, "I mean like to see what it's like in my field. With other artists and stuff. It's like a charity dinner thing. I have a plus one and I was just thinking... for your article."

Oh my god he's so awkward. I giggle a little bit, and I realize I'm just as awkward. I'm an experienced killer I should not get so excited by charity dinners with guys with radish colored hair!

"Sure that would be really cool," I say and I blush. I fucking blush. He made me blush.

"Great. Its black tie so if you need to borrow clothes from me-"

"No it's fine, I'm covered. Besides I think I'm a bit too short to borrow anything of yours," I answer and my face feels heated. I cannot believe that he made me blush.

I am so fucked, though. Where am I going to be able to hide a gun in a suit? Especially if there's a metal detector involved which there very well might be. I guess the answer could be that I not bring a gun at all.

What would the point of going be then? If I don't bring a gun, purely out of precaution, than I have no opportunity to kill him. Well I suppose there will be steak knives or something. No. No way, I cannot slit his throat. For one thing throat slitting is not my MO, and for another I've never actually done that.

It's too personal. You get in real close when you use a knife. There's so much more intent. You have to invade a person's personal space and you have to physically dig a weapon into their skin. You have to feel it pierce the skin and you have to physically feel yourself take a life away. I can't do that to a stranger let alone Gerard.

I can't kill him with a knife. I'm also having trouble killing him with a gun.

"Maybe... maybe I shouldn't come," I say.

He puts his hand on top of mine and I feel that electricity again that makes my heart stutter.

"Please?"

I can't say no. I just can't. Not to those puppy dog eyes.

"Okay, alright."

Without a gun what does it make this? Without a pen and paper either?

A date maybe?