A homeless thief breaks into a house that has nothing worth stealing - except for the heart of a lonely man who is obsessed with time.
*****
Blake has been living on the streets for...
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-Blake-
"Can I ask you something?" I spoke slowly.
Jordan looked at me shortly and continued painting. "Depends..."
"Just that... Why didn't you call the cops the second you spotted me here?" I asked.
Jordan looked down at his palette. At first, I thought he wasn't going to answer, but then he peeked at me again. "I should have, right?" he chuckled. "Any normal person would have."
He continued painting, and it seemed like he wasn't going to continue.
"But why?" I asked. "It's been bugging me."
He shrugged. "Is it weird if I say that I had the feeling I shouldn't? It took me a while to even understand what I was seeing... A man, in my balcony, on the third floor, where it should be impossible to climb to... I thought I had lost my mind or I was being pranked or something."
"I get that," I laughed lightly. "It must've been extremely weird."
"Extremely doesn't even cut it," Jordan smiled. "But why I didn't call the cops... You know I'm afraid of people, and when I saw you... I didn't panic. You are the first person I could look at without getting too overwhelmed. I didn't care about the rest of it. You could've been a murderer and I didn't really care."
"That's... that's actually making me uneasy," I told him truthfully.
"I wanted you to come back. I... I had this weird feeling you would come back. I can't really explain it," he said with a frown. "Why did you come back? That wasn't too smart."
"When I realized you didn't call the cops, I had to come back," I smirked. "I was dying to know why you didn't do that."
"Well, there you have it. I was so desperate for..." he trailed off, and a moment later, he added with a quieter tone, "...change."
"Fair enough," I said. "Maybe it was fate, then."
"I don't know if I believe in fate."
"How else can you explain this?" I chuckled.
He stared at me for a tiny moment, before he looked away with a small smile on his lips. I looked at the door he had left open for me, wondering what had made him trust me so much. Was it really desperation?
"So. We've known each other for a few weeks now," I spoke, looking at him again. "Do you have any regrets?"
"No," he said shortly.
"Good," I said.
"Do you have regrets?" he asked with a careful voice.
"No," I smiled.
The only regret I had was the fact I had to leave him for a couple of weeks. Neither of us had talked about it, even though it was already four days ago when I told him about it. He was tiptoeing around the subject so perfectly I didn't have the heart to bring it up. I knew I had to bring it up, if not today, tomorrow.
