Stalker

Buttercup

What happened to it being fucking autumn? I angrily think while briskly walking through the crowded sidewalk. Icy cold air somehow still find it's way to my skin underneath my layers of clothes. Horns from angry cabbies and restless city people blare out adding to the already steady hum of chaos that is New York city. Shouts from mouths full of curse words and whispers of quiet repetition can be heard from all around.

Fucking city! I need to get back to where I can breath again. Two days. Two days and I will be out of this swarming nest of maggots and back upstate where I belong. I am giving myself two more days. I will find my mark then. Get rid of them and head back to upstate where I can breath_

I am yanked out of my thought process by a small figure bouncing off of my side. A growl of annoyance leaves my lips. Twenty times. That makes twenty fucking times that I have been bumped in the last thirty minutes! "S-sorry!" A warm feminine voice calls out already a few feet away.

My head snaps up at the soothing tone. I catch the sight of you just in time before you squeeze between two people. And just like that, I am intrigued.

Picking up my pace, I quickly catch up to you. Not too close...just close enough. I am curious. Curious as to way I am so intrigued. Not much interests me...well other then the usual. A snort of amusement leaves me as I look you over. What a small thing you are!

You have to be just about five foot six inches..if that. Where are you going little one? Hmmm. You aren't who I would usually go for either... interesting.

Tucking my freezing fists into my jacket pockets, I keep up with you as you zigzag through the streaming crowd of lunch goers. You are in a rush. What has you in such a rush little one?

Your jeans hug your little curvy legs. Despite being so petite, you do really have such delicious curves. I wonder what your legs look like without jeans on?

I am close to you now. Close enough to smell your jasmine scent...not like that fruity cheap perfume that stores like to slap the label of jasmine on...no you smell like the actual flower. My mouth waters instantly. I wonder if you smell like this down below as well. Does your little budding flower smell like Jasmine also?

Slowing down, I quickly avoid running into you as you dart into a small bookshop. A chuckle leaves my lips and I smile softly. What a pleasant surprise little buttercup. I hope you are a reader. Please be a reader. Be someone of substance. Give me something I can talk to you about when I finally get a hold of you.

I lick my lips and study you through the open cracks of a random bookshelf. "Hey Steven! Please tell me the books came in?" You say breathlessly skidding to a halt in front of the outdated register sitting on top of an equally outdated counter with it's peeling paint and obvious graffiti that people have etched into it.

The mousy haired mop top college aged man jerks himself upright and smiles at you. I shift on my feet and frown. He's too comfortable with you...he clearly knows you. So of course that means that you come here often, which also may very well mean that you live nearby. Perfect.

I watch as you two joke around about how autumn only lasted two days and about how someone named Herman being away on vacation is a blessing in disguise. How happy you two are that he is gone. Hmmm.

Steven finally hands you the books. They are gift wrapped and he explained how they just came in this morning. He's flustered. He likes you...more then he should be allowed to. Hmmm. I will have to keep an eye on our Steven.

I shift my focus back to you. You are clutching the books to your chest. Your beanie is off now and I smile again at how adorable you are. Adorable...I fucking hate that term but it fits you. You with your square framed glasses sitting up on your pert little nose. Your thick hair plaited in a single braid hangs down like a rope over one shoulder. It looks like a long black cloud with your short wisps of hairs coming out of it like a thin film of fluffy halo around your face. Adorable. My fingers itch to touch it. I love your hair's texture against your complexion...I wonder if it is as soft as it looks. Better yet, I wonder how it will look wrapped around my hand. Will it feel just as good along my skin as it looks along yours?

You don't look up. That is your problem. You look everywhere but up. There is nothing down there on the fucking floor. But don't worry Buttercup, I will get you out of that ugly habit once you are mine.

I follow you to the non-fiction section. Oh God please don't go over to the self help section like every other desperate ass lost soul....Oh thank God, you go to the pet section instead. I hum with pleasure as I walk to the other side of the book case so that I can better see you. I love animals too. You are perfect for me Buttercup.

You stop right in front of the books dedicated for horses and what a pleasant surprise you are turning out to be buttercup. Your small hands flip through the pages of a random book and my dick grows hard just looking at the soft smile that appears on your plump lips. I almost moan out loud as I try in picture your lips and hands wrapped around my engorged cock. How does your moan sound buttercup? I hope you aren't one of those women who squeal...that shit is annoying.

I watch the light play off of your face and reveal in the different emotions that comes across your face as you flip through the picture book. How unaware you are of your surroundings buttercup. You don't even notice that I stand on the other side of the bookshelf staring at you staring at a book.

Or are you aware that I am standing here after all? I doubt it. My presence tend to set even the most confident of people at unease. A grungy tall muscular man covered in tattoos tend to be someone people avoid being around. I don't mind. I actually love it.

You look amazing buttercup even if you are dressed in some beat up Ugg boots, old tights, and a worn jacket with a sweater underneath that should have been thrown away a long time ago. Hmmm I will have to fix your clothing taste as well. Don't worry buttercup I will take care of you.

You place the book back into the shelf and walk off to chat with Steven once again. I stand back in the shadows and watch. My mark can wait until tomorrow. There will always be time for killing but now, now I watch you because you are so much more interesting.

Your pace is not as rushed this time as you leave out of the store. I follow behind not too close but just close enough to catch the faint hint of your scent. You must be heading home Buttercup. Good.

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A/N: What you guys think so far? I really don't know if I should keep this story plot or not. It's just something I have thought up while working on my other projects.

I wrote and will be writing most of this in second person. Did you feel as if he was talking to you? I was aiming for that effect :P! I just really wanted to created a creepy yet interesting mood for this story. I hope you guys found it interesting if not good so far.

Anyway please let me know your thoughts.<3