Full Time Day Dreamer

Over the next few days, Dex pays more attention in the building. Looks out for any new faces when he enters or when he walks down the halls. Not knowing who moved in next door is driving him crazy. A neighbour can impact a routine easily. If they party or work late, if they blast music or slam the doors. He needs to know who moved in, and fast.

Then he meets you. He comes down one day to get his mail. As he walks over to the mail room, he notices you’re opening the small locker close to his. When he steps in, you’re sorting envelopes in your hands. He watches you, you’re completely unaware he’s there.

He takes the opportunity to take in your features. You look gentle, patient. He sees how your brows frown at the sight of some of the envelopes. You’re beautiful, that’s an understatement for Dex. You were crafted by the hands of an angel he thinks. You were sent from Heaven. Could he be so lucky to have a creature as heavenly as you live next door? He hopes so. He knows there are a few other units that don’t have tenants yet.

You finally look up and see him.

“Oh hi, I’m sorry, am I in the way?”

He doesn’t reply, so you fill the silence, while shutting your mailbox and locking it.

“Sorry, I was looking at my mail. There’s a ton for a guy named James.”

It confirms his theory. You’re the new neighbour. His new neighbour.

“It’s okay. Yeah, that guy moved 2 months ago. “

He gestures to your enveloppes. You nod at the information.

“Makes sense. It’s mostly junk though, I don’t think there’s anything important.”

He clears his throat, pointing at your mailbox, “You’re in 132?”

You smile, “Yes, I just moved in.”

He puts his keys in the box next to yours. “I’m in 131. Dex.”

He offers his hand, you shake it, introducing yourself in return.

“It’s nice to meet you Dex, I hope I haven’t been disturbing you. I just finished unpacking.”

He refocuses on his mail, taking out a few envelopes before closing the small door.

“Not disturbing at all” Except the fact that you were a mystery until now. You’re still a mystery, but at least now you’re a mystery with a name.

“Good. You’ll see, I’m discret. I shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Good.”

He smiles, how wrong can you be?

You already are a problem, you’re a huge problem. That smile of yours has changed everything. The way your eyes sparkle as you smile his way. This is problematic. How can he go on with his day now that he knows you live right next door. Dex needs to find out all there is to know about you.

Over the next few weeks, Dex tries to map out your routine. You just moved in so maybe you haven’t figured out your routine yet. Or maybe you don’t have a routine at all. That would stress out Dex. He needs you to have a routine.

Even if your routine is still unclear, he’s come to a few realizations about you, one of them being that you cook when you’re nervous or had a bad day.

When you’re in the kitchen at abnormal hours, he wonders what’s on your mind. Is it work? Your family? Your boyfriend? There’s no sign you have one. Dex hasn’t seen anyone come by your apartment yet and you’re always home early. There’s no sign of a significant other on your socials.

He likes that. After all, he wants you to be his. So having a boyfriend could be a problem. Nothing Dex couldn’t solve, but still- Thankfully you don’t have one.

Dex sees you in the hallway as you both return home.

He stops at your door, “Hey.”

“Hey Dex.” You smile as you unlock your door.

Good, you’re talking to him. You’re looking at him now; waiting for him to say something. Anything at this point. He doesn’t know what to say to get you to stay in a conversation so he invents a problem.

“I broke my scissors last night, could I borrow yours? I’ll go buy some tomorrow I promise.”

“Sure, come on in.”

He follows you inside and stands in your living room as you fish a pair of scissors in your kitchen drawers.

Dex looks around, takes in the decoration. It’s minimal but it feels warm, cozy. Just like you do. This isn’t an apartment, it’s a home. You’ve been here for a short amount of time, yet your apartment looks 10 times more lived in than Dex’s. There’s a few plants here and there. Colourful pillows on the couch. You even have coloured appliances in your kitchen.

His head snaps back your way as you talk to him.

“Here,” you hand him the scissors. “Bring them back when you get a new pair. There’s no rush.” You smile.

He nods. “Thanks. I’ll see you around.”

“Have a good evening Dex.”

You smile at him as you walk him out. When he’s no longer in the hallway, you close your door.

The next day, Dex has a reason, an excuse to talk to you again. He walks over to your apartment, scissors in hand with the intention of asking you to coffee to “get to know each other since we’re neighbours”

He knocks. No answer. Another round of knocks. Still no answer, you’re not home. He goes back to his apartment and writes a note. The ball will be in your court that way.

He scribbles on a paper.

Hey, came by but you weren’t there. I wanted to give you back your scissors. -Dex

He hesitates at first but finally decides to slip the note under your door. You’d see it when you get back. Satisfied with his strategy, he heads back to his apartment.

When you get back and open the door to your apartment, you immediately notice the piece of paper on the floor. You pick it up and read it. It’s late, so you’ll go see him tomorrow.

When you head over to his door the next afternoon, there’s no response. You decide to imitate his idea and write him a note.

Hey Dex, came to see you but I guess you’re out. Seems like we’re missing each other all the time. I’ll be home all night long so feel free to pass by!

When he sees the note on his ground after opening his door, he smiles. You had made a move.

It says you’ll be home tonight. So he waits for a sign that you’re home. When he hears a commotion in your kitchen, he knows you’re home, probably baking. He doesn’t want to interrupt you as you’re working your magic. He’ll go once the noise dies down.

An hour later, he decides it’s time for him to head over. He grabs the scissors from his counter and exits his apartment.

He’s standing at your door, scissors in hand and he suddenly feels nervous. This time you’ll answer the door, he knows you’re there. He will come face to face with you and will have to talk- like a normal person. He shakes his head and takes a deep breath before raising his hand and knocking three times.

He hears the locks being undone and the door swings open. You’re there, smiling his way, greeting him, “Hey Dex! How are you? Come on in!”

He steps inside your home and you close the door. He didn’t expect you to invite him in this time around.

“Um. I’m fine. I figured I could give you back your scissors. Thanks again” He hands them to you and you take them.

“Thank you! Yeah, we kept missing each other. Good thinking with the note under the door.”

He nods, “I figured it was the easiest way to tell you I came by. “

“How about we exchange numbers? Could be useful if one of us needs something?”

“Yeah, that would be great”

It would be fantastic actually. Having your number meant having a direct way of communicating with you even if you’re not home. Dex wouldn’t be confined to talk to you only when you’re next door. He’d had access to you all the time. In a reasonable amount of course.

“It smells very nice.”

“Thank you! It’s cookies tonight. I usually bake way too much”, you point to the tray of freshly baked cookies. “Would you like one? Or five?” You chuckle.

“Yeah- I’ll take one please. They smell really good.”

“Thank you!”

You hand him a cookie on a plate.

“I will text you to give you your plate back.

“Don’t be shy to text if you want to grab more tomorrow if you like them. There’s so many.”

“I’ll let you know. Thanks again for the scissors. And the cookie.”

“My absolute pleasure.” You walk him out. You watch him walk back to 313 before closing your door and locking it again.

He walks back into his apartment, cookie in hand.

He now has your phone number, this went way better than expected. It makes sense though, for you two to exchange numbers. You are neighbours, anything could happen.

Nothing happens. It’s been 2 weeks and nothing has happened except the usual “hey” and “how are you doing” in the hallway. Nothing except the small talk in the elevator when you’re riding up or down at the same time.

And that makes Dex sad. Confused.

Maybe you don’t like him, maybe you’ve got a life full of friends already, maybe even a boyfriend- no please god, Dex thought, not a boyfriend. Maybe you don’t have time for him, maybe you don’t care for him. After all, he’s just your neighbour. Your pathetic, loser neighbour-

Ping.

Dex’s phone vibrates. He looks at it, a message from you lighting up the screen.

I’ve just baked apple pie, are you free to come over to try it?

He replied instantly.

I will be there right away.

You baked apple pie? His favorite? He had mentioned in the elevator one day that it was his favorite. You had listened. And you had remembered.

He remembers you saying you never tried your hand at apple pie, or any pie for that matter, so did you try it for him?

After shaking his intrusive thoughts out of his head, he walks out of his apartment. Taking the few steps over to your door, he breathes to calm himself down. You just invited him over, he can’t look like an excited puppy. He needs to look relaxed and chill. He knocks on your door and you shout from inside, “Come on in!”

When he steps into your apartment, the delicious smell hits him.

You’ve got your oven mitts on as you put the fresh pie on your counter. That looks like a scene from a movie Dex has seen. The scene where the wife takes out the dinner out of the oven as the husband comes home from work. Dex thinks about coming home from work to you cooking a good meal for him and it makes his stomach all fuzzy.

It’s not that you’d cook for him, he doesn’t want to seem traditional. It’s the fact that you’d care for him enough to make dinner for him if he came back from work late. It’s you caring about him enough to remember the small details- like remembering his favorite pie. It’s about you picking up the signs to know if he had a bad day at work or not before he even says a word. It’s not you cooking that makes his heart beat faster, it’s what it would represent.

Dex would cook for you too, breakfasts mostly. He’d love to make you his famous turned eggs after sleeping in together on a rainy day. He thinks about coming home at the same time as you after work and agreeing to getting food delivered and eating it in front of the tv. He wants you to be his equal, his partner. So no, it’s not about you cooking, it’s about what it sparks in him in that moment. He sees you living with him. He sees you becoming a part of his routine. You becoming his favorite part of his routine. You being in his life makes sense. It all makes sense with you.

He catches himself staring at you and decides he needs to say something. “It smells lovely in here.”

“Thank you! I hope it tastes as good as it smells. I’ve never done pie. I really hope the crust is okay!”

“I’m sure it will be”

He smiles your way. You love his smile, he always looks shy when he smiles, which makes him even more attractive. You love how kind he looks when he smiles at you.

~

Over the weeks, you quickly become friends. He comes over to try your desserts when you ask. Ever since your apple pie turned out to be a success, you’re always trying new things. Some are a success, some are… well, not as much, but you always get a good laugh out of it.

Dex remembers when you tried an upside down cake and the texture was off. Way off. You had laughed so hard and felt so bad for dragging him into that taste test.

He laughed with you before proposing an alternative, “How about we go for milkshakes, my treat?”

“I’m down for milkshakes but I feel like I should pay. Especially after making you try this cake- if we can call it that.”

“I insist, it’s my treat. And it’s probably the recipe that’s off. It’s not you.”

“You’re too sweet. Okay, I won’t argue with you. Next one is on me though!"

Dex hadn’t argued at that moment, but he wasn’t gonna let you pay. Ever.

~

Dex wants to invite you over to his place. He hasn’t in the two months you’ve been seeing each other on a more regular basis.

You constantly let him into your world, sharing things about your childhood and your work. You’ve invited him into your home multiple times. He figures he needs to let you into his world too. It’s only equal, fair.

So he texts you.

How about coffee or tea this afternoon? At mine? You can bring goodies if you want to of course. I’m not that skilled at baking.

You reply a few minutes later.

Ouh, afternoon tea? That’s fancy. I’m in! I can be there at 3? I will be bringing goodie!

Good, see you at 3.

You liked his message. Okay, you’re coming over at 3. That gives him a few hours to prepare. He cleans, even if his apartment is always clean. He wants everything to go well. He’s got coffee and 3 sorts of tea so that should be fine. He’s got music, should he put music on? Would that be weird? If not, what song does he put? Okay, no music, he decides.

You knock at 3 on the dot. He opens the door. “Hey, come on in.”

“Thanks” you murmur as you step inside.

Your eyes catch the view outside his windows.

“Your view is nice”, you set your plate of cookies on his counter. He’s got a street view, whereas you have a view on the side of the building. Not as glamorous.

“Thanks.”

You have a look around the open space containing the living room and kitchen. Dex is nervous, what if you don’t like how he is, who he is. Home reflect people, what if you had a bad feeling about his place or if it wasn’t like you thought. He doesn’t want to disappoint you.

You look at him, he’s standing in the middle of the room. “Your kitchen looks bigger than mine. When I move, I’ll be paying more attention to the kitchen.”

Dex chokes on air. You want to move?

“You’ve got any plans of moving?”

“Not for now. I just moved. But when I do, I want a bigger kitchen. And maybe an extra room, for an office.”

“Sounds nice.”

You stop in front of his cassette player by his kitchen table. It clearly caught your eye.

“You can play something if you want.“

You look at him, a smile creeping on your face, “yeah?”

He walks over to your side, arms almost touching, and opens the box where all his cassettes are. “Yeah, your pick.”

Your eyes sparkle at the view of the collection. You smile brightly and look up at him next to you, almost silently asking again for his permission. It makes his heart drop.

When you look at him like that, he thinks he could die happy. He doesn’t want to die, but if it were his time, he’d be happy you were the last sight he laid his eyes on. No, he doesn’t want to die, like he has so many times, cause you make him feel alive. When you’re around, life is brighter. When you’re with him, you make life wonderful. You make him believe life is worth living. A life with you is worth living. He wants to live, for you. To make you happy, to love you. Yeah, loving you makes this all worth it.

You trace a few rows of cassettes with your finger before pulling one out. You put it in the player and press the play button.

A man without love by Engelbert Humperdinck plays.

He steps closer to you, arms now touching fully. He raises the volume of the song.

Every day I wake up, then I start to break up, lonely is a man without love.

“Nice choice.” He’s listened to this song thinking about you. How he’s been less lonely since you showed up. How he would never again be a lonely man if he had your love. How your love is the solution to all his problems. How he would never again relate to this song if you only loved him.

You turn to face him, which creates a little distance between you, to be able to look up to him. “Yeah? So, about coffee- was it all a lie to get me here?” You smirk.

“No, it wasn’t a lie. More like an excuse.”

“I like your honesty.” You grin.

You close the distance between you, your chest now fully against his. You raise your right hand so it rests on the side of his neck.

When he doesn’t back away, you kiss him. He freezes. Then he melts into the kiss once he registers what’s happening. He didn’t think inviting you in for coffee would result in this. He grins into the kiss, happy you made the move. He wanted to, but he always gets nervous when you’re close. When he’s around you, he forgets about everything else. You’re like the remedy for his problems. There’s nothing your smile can’t fix. When he has a bad day, just seeing you in the hallway makes it better. When you hang out together, he thinks you were put on this earth to give purpose to his life.

When he’s with you, he feels good, but nervous. Nervous because he doesn’t truly know how to act. Nervous cause he doesn’t want to do something you wouldn’t like, something that would push you away. Should he compliment you, tell you how beautiful you look? You always do, but should he always tell you? He doesn’t want to get on your nerves, he doesn’t want to make a mistake. He does want to lose you.

He rests his forehead against yours, grinning like an idiot, “This is way better than coffee.”

You chuckle. “It is.”

“Would you like to have dinner with me instead. ”

You raise your eyebrow, “Like right now?” It’s too early to eat dinner, you think.

“No, this week. Maybe Friday?”

“Oh sorry, you make me nervous sometimes.”

He makes you nervous? Why? He’s just a regular guy. But you- you’re special.

He confesses too, “You make me nervous too.”

“Good. We’re even then.” You smile, “and yes for dinner with you. Friday works for me.”

“Perfect.” He smiles, “So, you want tea or coffee?”

“Tea, please.”

The next time you kiss, he doesn’t freeze. He’s even the one initiating it. It’s as if kissing him that first time ignited something in him. He took that kiss as a green light. A green light telling him you’re his now.

You’re not officially his yet, even if it’s just a matter of time, but Dex doesn’t care. To him, that kiss sealed the deal. You are his and he is yours. To Dex, that kiss is only the beginning for you two. The best is yet to come.

——

Part of you wants to know how he’d disarm you, cause his hands are empty. But part of you doesn’t want to take a chance at that, out of fear of getting hurt.

He goes to reach for a knife on his belt.

“No- it’s okay. I’ll put it down.” You clip the safety back on and put the gun down on the coffee table before walking over to him.

“Good girl. Now, grab anything you need to clean me up- except scissors. I’ve got a nasty cut on my back I can’t treat myself.”

You comply, not saying a word as you go into your bathroom to grab alcohol, wipes, ointments for cuts, medical tape and fresh bandages. You think about bringing a wet towel too, cause you don’t know how much blood there’ll be.

“Okay, sit in the floor right where you are, you’re too tall for me”

He looks at you for a moment, trying to decide if it’s to trick him. Your arms are full of medical supplies and your eyes are pleading him to do as you say.

He does. He sits where he was previously standing, right next to the window he used to get in. He faces the window, so you have access to his back. You kneel behind him.

“Are you taking your shirt off or should I-“ you’re cut short as his hands reach for the bottom of his shirt and he takes it off completely, making sure his mask stays on.

“Oh.” His back is covered in drying blood. The cut is on his left trapezius, about four inches long and seems deep.

He chuckles, “That bad, huh?” You can hear the grin in his voice.

“It’s not everyday I have to clean up a vigilante.”

You take the wet towel and start wiping his back the best you can. You try to be delicate close to the cut, but other than that, you apply pressure to get the blood off of his skin.

“Alright, this will sting but it’s not my fault.”

You clean the wound with the alcohol. He doesn’t move an inch. You think he must be used to it. That’s probably nothing compared to the other injuries he’s had. He’s a vigilante after all. He’s probably been cut and punched and hit dozens of times. He’s been shot at, that’s for sure, but you wonder if he’s ever been hit.

The thought is stronger than you, the question leaving your lips before you can refrain yourself from asking.

“You’ve ever been shot?”

“Once. Hurt like hell.”

“I can’t imagine.” You dry the skin around the wound.

You start applying ointment on his cut, “Could’ve been two tonight, sneaking into my home like that.“

“Baby, I could’ve disarmed you so fast you would’ve thought you’d seen a ghost. You’re lucky you’re pretty. And since I needed you, I didn’t want to hurt you or piss you off”

You put a fresh bandage on his cut and use the medical tape to make it stay in place.

“Well you did piss me off by asserting yourself in my living room without my consent.”

“I figure. But you were my only option. Like I said, I can’t treat back wounds myself. If I could, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Well, lucky for you, my job is done. You’re all cleaned up.” You rest your hand on his right shoulder for a moment, signalling that he can turn around now. Your touch stays with Dex, as if it meant to him that you’ve got him. That he’s safe here.

He doesn’t miss a beat, grabbing his shirt and turning around to face you, still sitting on the floor.

You gasp when you see his chest. There’s two cuts on his abdomen and a bruise forming on his left pec.

“You took a serious beating.” It’s stronger than you, you reach for his pec to trace your fingers over the forming bruise, his skin a dark red, spots already turning purple.

“You should see the other guys.” You roll your eyes at the cliche phrase. You don’t reply.

“Well, if you’re offering to patch me up completely, I can’t refuse. You’re way more delicate than I am.”

You don’t respond right away, this wasn’t you offering to patch him up more, it was just you stating the obvious. He is beaten up.

Dex knows you didn’t just offer to clean his other wounds for him. He just can’t leave, not right now. Not after you just accepted to help him, cleaned him up softly, only applying pressure when needed. He can’t leave your gentle touch, he can’t leave you.

“Let me grab another towel, this one is good for the trash.

He smiles under his mask, you’ve clearly accepted your faith for tonight. Whatever you were doing before he broke in just became a second thought as you give him your undivided attention.

You come back, with another wet towel in hand and with some more bandages. He winks at you as you kneel back down next to him.

“How nice of you. And here I thought you didn’t like vigilantes.”

You look into his eyes.

“Just for the record, I’m not anti vigilantes. I’m only anti vigilantes-breaking-into-my-home”

He chuckles.

“Fair.”

“You mind leaning back a little?”

He obliges, leaning back, putting both his hands on the floor to support him.

You start by cleaning the blood off of him, just like you had on his back. This time, Dex can look at you. He doesn’t just feel you, he sees you.

“So, there are a lot of vigilantes around right now, which one are you?”

“I’m Bullseye.”

You stop breathing, forgetting how to for a second, and that doesn’t go unnoticed by Dex. You’ve heard the rumours about Bullseye, about his aim. How he had called the AVTF to a dinner only to make a massacre out of them. The rumours said he could use anything as a weapon: a coin, a fork, a CD, even a live lobster.

You snap your head to look into his eyes.

“Is it true what they say? That your aim is perfect? And that you’ve killed a man with a lobster?”

“It’s more than perfect.”

“Nice”, the response jerks out of you. You don’t want to encourage or praise him. He’s cocky enough as it is.

“And yes- for the lobster”

“Poor lobster.”

He chuckles at your reply. You’re not scared of him, or terrified that he’s killed so many people, you’re sad for the lobster.

And you don’t say more after expressing sympathy for the creature. You return your attention to the wounds on his upper body.

Dex takes in your expression as you clean his wounds for him. You’re delicate and precise, as if you cared for him. But you don’t, he forced you to do this. He broke into your home and demanded you help him. He had forced you to drop everything to help him.

It just doesn’t seem like he did. You’re taking your time, not rushing the job for him to leave. Maybe it’s cause you don’t want him to return if you botch the job.

He watches as you apply the ointment to his two cuts. You put bandages over them, ripping the medical tape with your teeth since he didn’t want you bringing scissors. He realizes now you could’ve used them. You wouldn’t hurt him, not with the way you’re taking your sweet time to fix him up. Not when you apologized softly when his abs flexed when you sanitized his cuts with alcohol. You’re apologizing when he’s the one who got himself in this predicament in the first place.

“Now you’re all patched up!”

He nods, as a thank you. You won’t hear those words come out of his mouth.

“For the cut on my back, how long do you think the bandage will last?”

“Maybe a day. It’s deep.”

He puts his shirt back on and stands up. You follow suit. He towers over you.

“Good, I’ll be back tomorrow night so you can change it.”

You don’t respond. You don’t know what to say. You know you can’t have a vigilante come to your home for appointments to change bandages. You’re not his accomplice. Nor his impromptu doctor. You’re a regular civilian. You pay your taxes, you pay your rent on time. You give to charity when you can, you give your seat to older people on the bus. You are a good person. You don’t want any trouble, especially with the law. But you still catch yourself nodding at his statement.

You see in his eyes that he’s smiling at you, “See you tomorrow.”

And just like that he’s gone, going down the stairs of the fire escape.

You lock your window. What the fuck just happened?

~

The next morning, you see your downstairs neighbour Tony as you both head out the building.

“Have a nice day Tony.”

“You too, see you around.”

He gives you his classy charismatic smile and you both head into different directions. Ah, he’s so charming.

~

At night, you know Bullseye will show up, you just don’t know at what time. You’ve prepared for his visit. You’ve got new bandages and medical tape on the coffee table. You even put a chair next to the window, not wanting to fix him up sitting on the floor.

When he shows up at around 11:00 pm, you still jump at the sound of the window opening. You know it’s him, but you’re not used to people getting in your apartment using the window instead of the door.

“Hey.” He greets you.

You stand up to walk closer to him. You notice a small cut on his eyebrow and cross your arms at the thought of him fighting in his condition.

“You went out? Like to do vigilante stuff? You’re all cut up from yesterday, it will never heal if you don’t take a break.”

“I went to gather information, I got in a fight on the way home. Thanks for caring baby, it’s sweet.”

“I care about you not coming here every night. I’m patching you good so you don’t come back.”

Part of it is true, you’re taking your time to patch him up correctly so he doesn’t come to you every night. You have other things to do and you don’t want to get involved in his shit. No more than you already are.

Dex loves how you’re scolding him for going out and fighting tonight. It means you care in a way. And you do, he’s a human being after all. A fucked up one, but still a human.

“And I’m not your baby.”

You don’t give him the time to talk back, knowing his comeback would be something cocky.

“Take a seat.”

You gesture to the chair you had placed next to the window. He sits down, the back of the chair in front of him. He takes his shirt off and leans his arms on the top of the chair. You now have full access to his back this way.

You take off the bandage covering his cut, it’s full of blood.

“If you want it to heal, you’ll have to give it the time to. You can’t go around fighting.”

You do what you did last night all over again, cleaning the wound, applying ointment and covering it with a bandage.

You run your hand over the bandage one last time to make sure the tape is fully stuck to his skin. You let your hand roam his back a little, feeling his muscles beneath your touch.

“All done.”

He stands up in a swift motion, turning to face you. His shirt is still on the floor. You take in how ripped he is. The bruise on his pec is now totally purple. You want to feel it with your fingers, but you stop yourself tonight. You shake your head to get your mind out of the gutter.

You point to the cuts on his chest, “I’m not checking these two. You can do them.”

He chuckles. He picks up his shirt and puts it back on. He stares at you, the look in his eyes intense. There’s a silence. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s just there. You look up at him, wondering why he’s not leaving. He’s just looking at you like you mean everything to him. You couldn’t, right? You’re just a random girl he forced into helping him. There’s nothing here. He’s just using you to treat his wounds, nothing more.

You give him a small smile, “Try to keep yourself out of trouble will you?”

“I’ll try my best for you. Can’t make no promises though.”

“I figure”

After getting another good look at you, he leaves. You lock the window once he does. You don’t want him coming back in as you’re watching a movie. 2 nights in a row was enough, or was it? You’re intrigued by him.

The urge to know more about him is stronger than you. You need to look him up. You reach for your laptop that lays next to you on the couch. You open it and type in Bullseye in the search bar. There’s a lot of info about him. You find his name, his real one: Benjamin Pointdexter. He was in the FBI. He went to prison it says, you click on the link to view his criminal record. You freeze. His mugshot. You know that face. You’ve been seeing it for months. It’s Tony, your downstairs neighbour. The guy who holds the door for you when you go out at the same time, the guy that smiles your way as he wishes you a good day. Tony, the guy your landlord loves because he’s so nice to her and because he feeds her cat.

Tony, the neighbour you’ve been secretly crushing on cause he’s gorgeous, is Bullseye. He’s the vigilante who’s come to your house the last two nights. What the fuck.

In a way it makes sense. You live in the apartment directly above from his. Bullseye had to live close by to have chosen you to patch him up. It couldn’t have been random you figure. It wasn’t random at all. You live in the apartment on top of the one where he lives. You live just above Bullseye, the vigilante even the AVTF fears. You live above a very dangerous man. A man dangerous enough and deranged enough to kill you if he wanted to. You wouldn’t stand a chance if that was his intention. That deranged man had come to your house. Twice.

What should you do? Were you in danger now that you knew who he was? Were you in danger for helping him?

Your mind keeps spiralling. This is crazy. You should lock your windows from now on. You decide you’ll do just that. Then again, would locks truly keep him out? Probably not. If he’d want to get in your apartment, he’d find a way.

You decide this is too much and head to bed.

What are you supposed to do with this information? If he comes back, should you tell him you know it’s him?

You try your best to put all these thoughts away. To put all Bullseye-related thoughts in a box and mentally burn it.

You’re so exhausted that you finish by falling asleep.

~

You try to live your life as if nothing happened. You don’t know Bullseye, have never talked to him, never met him, never touched him. You try, but you fail miserably.

He lives rent free in your mind. That fucking bastard.

There hasn’t been a sign of him in the last two days, except from the stack of three newly bought towels that were left just outside your window on the fire escape. A note was placed over them, “To replace the ones I ruined”. This felt like a thank you, but also like the conclusion of your story. The end of your partnership if you could call it that. It felt like it was over. It felt like you could now move on and start breathing again.

~

3 days later, you’re enjoying a new movie that just came out while eating ice cream straight out of the pint. You live alone, you’re free to do as you please.

Click.

You freeze. You know that sound. The sound of your window unlocking. Then you hear the window slide open. You don’t turn, you know it’s him. You mentally curse him out for coming here again. You thought this was over. You hear his boots connecting with your floor. You didn’t think he’d be back but clearly you were wrong.

“Hey.”

You pause your movie and stand up, ice cream tub in hand. You turn your head in his direction to greet him just in time to see him falling on the floor, face first- completely numb.

“Hey- what the fuck!”

You drop your tub and run to him. You crash to the floor next to him and use all your strength to turn him so he’s laying on his back. His eyes jerk open and he gasps.

“I’m okay- just need to rest a little”

“You’re not okay. Stay with me, don’t close your eyes! Where are you hurt?”

You roam your hands over his covered upper body, searching for a wet spot of blood or a visible injury.

“I’m good” He gets himself to sit up, just strong enough to lay his back against the wall of the window. He breathes heavily.

You look into his eyes, a drop of blood on his eyebrow catching your attention.

“You’re hurt. Your head, it’s bleeding.”

You instinctively reach for his neck, your fingers touching the bottom of his mask.

He stops you, a hand grabbing your wrist aggressively. He’s stronger than you, there’s no doubt.

You whisper, “It’s okay. I know who you are. I just want to help.”

You start reaching for his mask again, this time slower, almost as if asking for permission. His grip on your wrist drops.

You pull his mask up, revealing his face completely. He’s all white, he had just passed out after all. In any other situation, you’d take the time to admire his gorgeous features. He’s a handsome man. A deadly, very handsome man. The right side of his face is all bloody.

You run to the bathroom to gather everything you need, stopping in the kitchen on your way back to grab a water bottle.

You kneel down next to him.

“Here, drink this.”

He opens it and drinks half of it in one swing.

You clean the blood from his face with a towel.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Want to tell me what happened?”

“Got hit in the head with a pipe. I knew I had to get to you before losing consciousness.”

“You’re lucky you reached me in time.”

He smiles weakly, his face regaining its normal colours.

“I knew you had a soft spot for me.”

“I had a sweet spot for Tony. Not Bullseye.” You confess.

“You must’ve been hella disappointed when you saw my face just then.”

“I knew you were him. I looked you up after last time.”

He grins, “You did?”

You nod. “I figured I should know more about the man that’s been breaking and entering into my home”

“So were you?” He pauses, “Disappointed?”

“I don’t know. I’ve not wrapped my head around it yet.”

“Well I am Tony, just with a darker side.”

“Much darker.” You apply ointment on his eyebrow, where there’s a little cut, “So, what should I call you? Ben? Benjamin?”

“Dex.”

You hum, wrapping your head around his new name, “Dex.”

He likes how his name, his real one, sounds on your lips. It rolls perfectly off your tongue.

“You like me, admit it. I am Tony, just with a different name and more layers.”

“Dex- You’re crazy.”

“You like it.”

You roll your eyes.

“I know you got worried when I lost consciousness.”

“Yeah, you know what would happen to me if the AVFT found you in my apartment? My life would be ruined. I’m just glad you’re not dead. I don’t know how to dispose of a body”

“I do.”

“I will move past that comment.”

“Kiss me, I know you want to.”

He grabs your waist, pulling you over his legs, making you straddle him. Clearly his strength had come back quickly.

“Woah, let’s calm down” You try to get off from him but his grip on your waist tightens, keeping you in place.

Even injured, he was still stronger than you. Way stronger.

You rest your hands on his chest, contemplating kissing him. What it would mean, what it would implicate. Kissing him meant you were his accomplice in a way. It meant you couldn’t tell yourself he’s forcing you to help him anymore. It would mean you are doing this out of use of your free will now. That you’re accepting him and all he does.

For Dex, kissing you would mean you were his.

You debate between arguing with him, telling him to get out as soon as he could stand or kissing him. You want to give in to the temptation. You’ve thought about kissing Tony- well Dex, technically- for weeks. How would kissing Dex be any different? They’re the same guy. They’re both Bullseye. Yes, you never imagined Tony to be a killer when you were fantasizing about him, about him taking you on a date. How much different would it be to kiss Dex? Yes, there would be the murder thing- that’s inevitable, but he could still take you out on a date. He could continue to hold the doors open for you. This could be exciting, going out with “Tony” in public, but in private being with Dex.

Before you can change your mind, you lean in and press your lips against his. He groans at the contact. You put your hands on his cheeks.

Dex doesn’t remember the last time he was kissed. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been touched with this much kindness, this more love. To Dex, this is what love must feel like. Love, he hadn’t thought about that in a while. Love can come later. Fuck love, right now he’s feeling lust. He knows you won’t give him what he wants, he’s injured. Or maybe you will?

Kissing you will have to do for now. He slips his tongue in your mouth, wanting to taste you more. You taste like strawberry ice cream and it makes him crave a milkshake. He wonders if you’d like that as your first date- going out for milkshakes with him. Maybe you’d both grab one, you strawberry and him banana, or maybe you’d grab one with two straws. Or would it be only one straw? That’d be even more romantic Dex believes.

Thinking of ice cream, your pint of strawberry ice cream is slowly melting on the floor as you make out with Dex, but you don’t care.

He tastes like blood and it makes you go a little crazy. You pull his hair, getting a moan out of him.

He breaks away and kisses your neck, “You’re mine.”

It’s not a question, it’s an affirmation. A statement.

He can smell your shampoo, it’s citrusy. He can’t figure out what fruit -he will later he notes- but he loves the smell.

You break apart, breatheless. He nods at the ice cream on the floor, silently asking if you want to clean that up before anything else happens. You look at it melting for a second before looking at Dex again.

You smirk, “You owe me a pint of strawberry ice cream”

“Fair.”

If that’s the price to pay for you to be his, Dex can buy you all the ice cream in the world. After all, he’d do anything for you- kill anyone for you. But sure, a pint of strawberry ice cream will suffice. For now.

——

You quickly got used to the fast pace of the tourist coming and going. The management hadn’t lied, the tips were flowing. A smile and a little flirting got you far. The guys your age all tip big in the hopes of getting lucky. Most of them are here in groups so the tips are multiplied. You even flirt with the older men, it makes them feel good and even more generous. That’s how you like it. Women tip you good too, especially the ones on solo trips you notice. They like the company you think. You don’t mind listening to people talk, that’s part of the job anyways.

About two weeks in, you arrive to relay your coworker Jack for the closing shift. You greet him and he wishes you a good shift before leaving. Late shifts always are the most lucratives, people are always more loose with their money when they’ve got a few drinks in them already.

You serve a couple and a groups of girls. They seem fun and offer you to come to their cabin later, but you’re just beginning your shift. You ask if they’ll be around for a few more days but they mention it’s their last night. Bummer, it could’ve been nice to hang out with them.

You like being away from the city. You’re reconnecting with nature and also learning about yourself more. You’re just not used to being completely alone yet. Sometimes you just miss hanging out with friends. You look around the room, groups of friends, couples and a few solo travellers you recognize from a few days ago chatting to each other. You finish scanning the room and your eyes fall on him. He’s already looking your way, your eyes locking in the process.

He’s sitting at the last bar stool, sipping a beer, a bowl of peanuts in front of him.

He nods your way so you walk over.

“Hey. What can I get you?”, you offer.

“I’ll take another of these. Thanks sweetheart”, he grins. Is it his intention to rob you the wrong way?

You roll your eyes internally at the pet name. You grab a beer and put it in front of him, taking his empty one away.

“Here you go”

“You’ve got a name or should I just call you sweetheart?”

You debate a moment between giving your name and being sassy. You decide on both.

You introduce yourself, then add “but you can stick to the sweetheart, it seems like your style.”

He smirks, “Well sweetheart it is then. I’m Shane by the way. I work here too, wildlife management, so you’ll be seeing much more of me around”.

Oh, he works here. You smile at him, genuinely this time.

“Nice to meet you Shane. Maybe I should ask you about hikes and stuff when I get the time.”

“I’ll be here all night, don’t be shy. I am an expert after all.”

You nod, “Good to know. Let me know if I can get you anything else.”

“Will do.” He tips his beer in your direction before taking a sip.

A customer catches your eye so you walk over to serve him. The guy’s older than you, good looking too.

Shane looks at you as you shamelessly flirt with him. Are you actually interested or is it just for the job? He observes you to decide which it is. That guy is at least 10 years older, but you don’t seem to mind. You’re smiling brightly, more than when you had served that couple earlier. You hand the guy his drink and he sticks around. You chat, both of you clearly enjoying the exchange.

Shane’s beer is finished. He wants another and that’s the perfect excuse to break up the conversation you’re having with mister nice guy.

He clears his throat, catching your attention. You signal the guy it’ll only be a minute.

“Yes Shane?”

“Same thing, sweets.”

“Coming right up!” You don’t seem to mind the pet name, probably too eager to get back to the older gentleman.

He watches you exchange his beer for a new one like you did before.

“Thanks.”

You smile his way.

He goes to add something, but you’re already back in front of mister nice guy. Maybe you’re into older guys, he thinks to himself. And if you are, then this has just taken a different turn. Shane had seen you hike about a week ago, thought you were beautiful. You hadn’t noticed him. When he saw you walk into the bar tonight, behind the bar- he realized something. This meant that you’re here to stay, you’re not just a tourist here for a few days.

And seeing you flirt -truly flirt he had decided- with that guy right now, who’s close to his age, changes everything for him. It means he might have a shot if he plays his cards right. Sure, if you don’t find him attractive, he doesn’t have a chance, but he hopes you do. He won’t lie, he knows he’s good looking. He sees they way women look at him, but still, he doesn’t know if you’ll look at him like that. You hadn’t as of right now. He’s hoping to change that.

He observes as you take the time to serve the other guests while maintaining the guy’s attention. Shane knows that look, that guy is on the hunt and his pray tonight is you. Shane knows that look cause he often has it himself. He loves to hunt. He lives to hunt. He wonders if that guy will score. The bar doesn’t close for another 2 hours, and you need to clean up after. He wonders if the guy will wait until you finish or if he’ll tell you where he’s staying and ask you to join him once you’re done.

Shane gets his answer as the guy asks you for a pen after paying his tab cash. Once you give it to him, he scribbles something on a napkin and hands it to you. You take it and your expression changes. You look sympathetic, maybe you’re turning him down. Shane hopes you’re doing just that. Maybe you’re saying you can’t make any promises or that you finish too late, that’s more likely. The guy nods at you before leaving. He doesn’t look like a guy who’s been rejected, so you clearly left the door open. Maybe in fear of offending him or because you’re genuinely interested. Shane hopes it’s the first option.

You walk over to the corner where Shane is seated to wash to your hands at the sink. You just handled cash so it is the sanitary thing to do.

He adresses you, cocky as hell, “So, tell me sweets- is that guy getting lucky tonight?”

You turn your head to look at him. “First, you can stop with the pet name, you’re overusing it and since you work here and are not a tourist, it’s very weird. Secondly, that is none of your business Shane.

Woah, he realizes he fucked up. You’re mad, he can tell by the look in your eyes. You think he overstepped and he agrees.

He changes his tone to something less arrogant and more friendly, “I didn’t mean to offend you, I’m just curious. I’m trying to have a chat, get to know you. You into guys like him?”

He seems sincere, but you think maybe it’s just the effect beer has on him. You take a breath. Shane works here so you’ll see him around, you don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with another employee. You decide to give him a chance and allow him some grace.

You smile gently, but still a little defensive, “What if I am, Shane? There’s no policy against that.”

“Maybe there should be.” He thinks out loud.

“Anyways, I’m not doing anything with that guy. I’m not entertaining anything besides harmless flirting on the job. He leaves tomorrow anyways.”

“But he gave you a napkin, what did it say? I’d bet 10 bucks it’s his room number. Come on, tell me.”

“It is. But it doesn’t matter, cause like I said, I’m not entertaining anything with him.”

“Would you? If he wasn’t a guest?”

You look at him for a second, wondering if it’s a real question. The absence of a smirk on his face tells you he’s serious.

“Hum, maybe. He was good looking and really nice.”

You like older guys.

“He was older”, he states. It’s a question in disguise.

“What about it? I can do what I want. With who I want”

Okay, you definitely like older guys.

~

Shane comes to the bar even more now, hoping to see you. You work 6 days a week, so his odds are good. It has become routine for you two to see each other while you work. He sits in his usual spot and you chat with him between serving guest. You talk about a bit of everything together. After every shift, he walks you back to your cabin. He knows you won’t get attacked out here, but it gives him an excuse to spend a few more minutes with you. Alone. He wants you all to himself, in more ways than one. He’s into you, more than he thought he would, but it’s the truth.

You nod his way, putting peanuts in front of him, “Hey Shane, the usual?”

“Yes please, sweet-“ he stops himself, raising his hands in a defensive stance as you give him a look. “I know, I’m not allowed anymore, I’ve been getting better though.”

You chuckle at his behaviour. “Good, here’s your beer.”

“What time are you off?”

“I’m closing tonight. Why?”

“I know you’ve said you wanted to stargaze, so I wanted to offer to go with you. Or, you know you can come to my camp. There’s always a place for you.”

It’s not the first time he’s offered you to go to his camp. You know he wants to get in your pants, it’s obvious. You know cause he gives you the look guys give you when you flirt with them for tips. You don’t think he realizes. He’s got a good poker face most of the time, but you still catch him looking at you with those eyes every now and then. You’ve been thinking about giving in and saying yes. Or you’ve thought about inviting him to your cabin after your shift. You know he’d say yes in a heartbeat. You’ve been stopping yourself out of fear that everything will change. Shane has become the person you’re closest to here. Sleeping with him could change the dynamic in a bad way and you can’t let that happen.

“Well not tonight, I finish late.”

“No worries, the offer stands for whenever you’re free.”

You do want to go stargazing. You’ve been talking about it since you moved here. Everyone talks about how clearer the skies are here, how the stars shine brighter, but every day you tell yourself you’ll go, you’re always too tired to go through with the plan.

You lean on the bar in front of him, “How about going up to a cliff to stargaze some day? Don’t you have an ATV or something?”

“I do. Sure, we could do that.”

He’ll take whatever you’re ready to give him. He thinks you’re leading him on sometimes, but the glimmer in your eyes tells him something else. He knows he’s your type. He doesn’t want to make a move too intense out of fear of pushing you away, cause he enjoys your company. He won’t tell you, but he does. Since you started working here, he’s been less lonely. Even if you only talk to him a few times during a shift, he considers that a good night for him. You listen to him and offer your input when he lets you. He knows that’s your job, you’re paid for that as a bartender, but to him it feels different. He sees how differently you act towards him cause he sees how you are with the guests.

With him, it feels real, like you’re not faking anything. You’re not faking your smile, nor your interest in what he has to say. You’re not faking for a tip, cause you had told him a few weeks ago not to tip you anymore. You had said it made it weird, since you were now friends. Friends. That’s the word you had chosen in that moment.

He remembers feeling weird when you said it. Sure, it meant you liked him enough to consider him a friend, but was he a friend friend. Like “in the friend zone” friend? Or was it just a word to describe you had become closer over the weeks.

He tries not to think about it too much, but it’s hard. The hunter in his picks up all the sign you give him that you’d maybe want more. He’s observed you long enough over the weeks to know how you operate.

When you twirl your hair with your finger like you’re interested, it’s fake.

When your eyes don’t close a little when you’re smiling, it’s fake.

When you cross your arm, it’s fake.

When you laugh, throwing your head back, it’s fake.

But in the contrary, he knows when it’s real.

When you lean forward while someone is talking, it’s real.

When you laugh with your head down, it’s real.

When you massage your cheeks after laughing too much, it’s real.

When you bite your lips a little without even realizing when you’re concentrating, it’s real.

When your cheeks turn bright read when someone compliments you, it’s real.

When you rub your arm up and down while asking for something, it’s real.

Bar just closed. You closed the register. You made sure every bottle was at its right place behind the bar, while Shane put the chairs in their right spots. He always helps you even though you always insists he doesn’t have to and it’s your job to do it.

You just finished cleaning the counters. You wash your hands at the sink and get out from behind the bar. You take a pen and write on the maintenance paper that’s against the wall at what time you closed up. You write your initials next to the time stamp.

When you turn around, Shane is right there, standing a few inches away from you.

While watching you clean up, he decided he was going to make a move tonight. He’s been patient enough he figures. He knows you’re interested and he thinks it’s now time for him to make a move. A real one.

“You’re beautiful”

Your cheeks turn bright red. This is real.

You chuckle, your head falling towards the ground as you shake your head. This is real too.

“How much have you had to drink Shane?”, you say as you rub your arm. This is very much real.

He takes a step forward, closing the small gap between you two.

“You know how much I’ve had to drink. I’m not drunk, I’m just stating a fact.” He brings his hands up and sets them on the side of your waist.

You don’t push him away. Instead, you raise your hands and sets them on his arms, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

You look up at him, as if you’re waiting for him to make the next move. He pulls you even closer to him.

You’re there, pressed against his chest. This is it, there’s no going back. This has been weeks in the making. He leans in, slowly.

“I’m so sorry I think I left my hat in here”

You snap your head in the direction of the voice. A guy your age, standing in the middle of the room, pointing towards the tables.

You pull away from Shane, completely breaking contact as you turn your attention to the tourist, “Yeah, of course, have a look.”

He smiles, “Thanks, I’ll be quick”

You look at him search the area he was in earlier. You don’t look at Shane, but you know he’s looking at you. You feel his eyes in you.

“Got it.” The guy walks towards the door, you do the same to accompany him out. “Thank you”, he says apologetically. Anyone with eyes could see he interrupted something.

You smile his way, “No worries. Take care.”

He nods and leaves. You stay in the doorway. You look at Shane and take out the keys from your pocket.

You nod towards the door, “You coming?”.

Shane realizes the moment passed. His chance went up in flames the second that guy showed up. “Yup.” He walks out the door and you follow suit. You lock up behind you and you start walking out of the hotel.

Shane walks you to your cabin in silence, not knowing what to say after what happened - well actually, after what hadn’t happened. He was about to kiss you when that guy showed up out of nowhere. He curses the guy out in his mind.

“Good night Shane, I’ll see you around”

“Night. See ya sweets”, you don’t correct him at the use of the pet name. Its use does feel different tonight. He sounds regretful, disappointed or sad even, but those emotions don’t belong in his repertory. You dismiss it, smiling at him before disappearing into your cabin.

You both think about how the night could’ve ended differently. If he had kissed you, would you have invited him inside to spend the night? Would you have left it at that for tonight? There’s no way to truly know.

~

When you wake up, you’ve got a clear objectif in mind. Today is the day, you’ve decided to go to Shane’s camp. In all the weeks you’ve known Shane, you never went to his camp. You know what it implied. When he offers, you know it’s cause he hopes you say yes and sleep with him. After last night, you’ve decided to just let go and enjoy. You’re only here for the summer after all, who cares if you sleep with him. You’ve got the right to have fun.

So here you are, in the middle of the afternoon, heading to Shane’s campsite.

You’ve thought about it and you don’t care if it all goes to shit, you want to sleep with him. Shit, you really want to sleep with him. He did try to kiss you yesterday and you would’ve let him- if it wasn’t for that guy who barged in looking for his hat.

“Shane?”, you look around the camp.

He sees you and stands up, “Oh hey, what’s up?”. He rests his riffle up against the log.

“I was hiking by and figured I should say hi. You’re always seeing me in my element, I figure I should get a peak at you in your natural habitat.”

“Yeah, well this is me. I was on my way to check on a herd of deers. Want to come with?”

He zips up his backpack.

“I would, but I’ve got a meeting for the job. Scheduling and shit, or something like that.”

Than earns you a chuckle from him. He’s getting ready to leave.

He nods your way. “So, you working tonight?”

“No, finally my night off.”

“Nice, you got any plans? Doing something?”

“Yeah.”

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate. You take a step towards him.

This is it, it all goes to shit or it doesn’t.

“You. I’m doing you if you’re free.”

He doesn’t have time to register what you’re saying that you pull him by the shirt and smack your mouth against his. The second his brain realizes what’s happening, he pulls you closer by the waist.

You break away, breathless.

“The deers can wait- let me-“

You cut him off. “I don’t have time right now. I told you I’ve got a meeting. Come to my cabin when you finish work?”

He grins, his eyes dark with lust, “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“Good, I’ll see you tonight”

You put your arms around his neck to pull him in for another kiss.

“Bye Shane.”

As you turn around to leave, he smacks your ass, “Bye sweetheart.”

This time you don’t correct him. The pet name makes your heart drop a little. You think about how you’ll finally get what you’ve been thinking of tonight.

Shane thinks the same thing. He's still processing what just happened. He knows his chance was ruined last night and he thought about when he’ll have another shot at making a move, but you just did. You straight up grabbed his and made out with him. He thanks the stars for that, cause he didn’t know how long he was gonna be able to be around you without kissing and touching you. Especially since you weren’t pulling away last night before that fucking tourist came in.

He wants you to be his.

Tonight, he’ll get everything he’s been obsession over. He’ll get you all to himself.

~

You’ve been casually sleeping together for a few weeks now. You’ve been going at it in your cabin, at his camp, in the river, on top of the cliffs while stargazing. You can’t get enough of each other. There’s no label but you’re clearly exclusive. You hadn’t slept with anyone since you arrived and Shane hasn’t thought about sleeping with anyone else since he laid eyes on you.

Shane knows you’re exclusive even if nothing was clearly stated. In his head, you’re his. You’ve been from the moment he say you on a hike that first time. He marked you as his pray when he realized you were working here for the summer. Shane doesn’t do casual, only one night stands, but for you, he’d do anything.

You’re doing the early evening shift today. Shane knows your schedule by heart. He’s sitting at his usual spot, no beer this time. He’s got a small map he’s scribbling on, he’s working. He loves your company so sometimes he works from the bar, only to be near you.

He looks up when he hears you laugh. You’re leaning forward, both hands on the bar, your eyes closing as you throw your head down to laugh. Oh, this is real. The guy on the other side of the bar looks your age. He’s good looking, a nice watch on his wrist. Shane sees your eyes sparkle and his heart drops.

He debates between calling you over for a beer, just to seperate you from that guy. He decided against it, thinking about what you’d say if you knew he was jealspus. Jealous, that’s what he was feeling. He’s never been jealous. Shane isn’t the type of guy to be envious or jealous of anyone.

He realizes he’s down bad for you. Maybe he should just tell you. You’re already sleeping together and some might say that you already look like a couple. Could Shane say you’re seeing each other? You’ve never talked about it together so he doesn’t know how you see the relationship. Are you just basic friends with benefits or can what you’re doing be considered casual dating? He wonders.

He gets snapped out of it as he notices you walking over to him. He blinks a few times rapidly, shaking all those questions out of his mind.

“Hey, just checking in? How’s it going?”

“It was going good, until that guy showed up. He’s your age. He wants to get in your pants.”

“Like the others.”, you say it so casually, but it’s not rare with the job you do.

You notice the interaction you just had with the guy is affecting him. You lean forward, a wicked smile forming on your lips.

“Guys my age are nice, but you know you’ve got me hooked.”

His eyes go dark, a grin appearing on his face, like you just light something in him.

“Good, cause you’re mine”

His possessiveness makes your inside all fuzzy.

You raise an eyebrow to challenge his statement, “Am I? Since when?”

“Since I saw you. But let’s say since now?”

You grin, “Fine by me Shane.”

He smirks, “Good, then now you’re mine. As soon as you clock out, I’m making that official.”

You’re speechless. By the time you think of what to reply, you can’t as a guest calls out for you.

As you walk away to serve the guest, Shane looks at you. You’re his now and he was gonna make sure you understood what it meant tonight, as he was gonna claim you as his. All. Night. Long.

——

He’ll always remember it, just like he remembers everything about you. That’s why he’s on his way to your favorite coffee shop - although you don’t drink coffee, it’s always tea or hot chocolate. You always go there on Tuesdays once the lunch rush is over. You never skip it and Dex likes that. He likes that you’re a creature of habit.

Monday. Gym in the afternoon.

Tuesday. Coffee shop around 2 p.m. and walk around the neighbourhood in the evening, but always before dark. Dex assumes you don’t walk alone at night, and he likes you even more for it.

Wednesday. Pizza, pepperoni pizza with pepper flakes on it to be precise.

Thursday. Gym in the afternoon again.

Friday. Morning run by the East River.

Saturday and Sunday were less precise, sometimes you had plans with friends, or you went to a morning yoga class. On rainy days, you just stayed in. Dex enjoyed your simplicity. He found it comforting.

He needed more. Observing you and learning everything about you had been enough for a few months, but now he needs more. He thought about how to insert himself in your life without making it obvious that he knows everything about you. He wants to make it look random. Like a meet cute, he thought. He thought about his plan for a while, now everything is mapped out in his head. He’ll get in line right behind you at the coffee shop. Your orders should be ready at around the same time. When you’ll go to reach for your cup, he’ll reach for the same. “Sorry, stupid mistake”, he’ll say. You’ll probably smile brightly at him and dismiss his apology.

So that’s where he’s at right now. He’s faking a phone call outside the coffee shop, waiting for you to enter. When you do, he follows the plan; he gets in line behind you.

You order. He orders. He moves to the side to wait for his coffee. He stands close to you, but not close enough to be suspicious. He looks over at the wall, as if he’s looking at the deco of the shop.

He’s thinking about what he’ll say, he had rehearsed it. He knows he’ll have to give you a small smile. Not too big to look too interested, just enough to look friendly.

He’s so focused on his plan that he completely misses the barista say his name. He’s almost in a trance, his eyes fixated on the wall.

He comes back to reality when he sees you moving in his peripheral vision. He shakes his head briefly, getting himself together.

There you are, handing him his coffee, “I’m guessing you’re Dex”. You smile at him. He’s so captivated by you that he almost doesn’t realize you’re introducing yourself to him.

He takes the cup in his hands, greeting you with a nod, “Thanks. Nice to meet you. Yes, I am”

“Good, if not it would’ve been super awkward.”, you chuckle to yourself.

This is not how it’s supposed to go. This is even better than planned.

This is his way in, you’ve opened the path for him. You played your pawn, not it’s his turn to make a move on the chess board.

He smiles, “You want to sit down, or maybe walk outside?”

“Yeah, walking outside sounds great.”

He gestures for you to go in front of him. You do and you both walk out of the coffee shop together.

He could ask you what you do for work, but he knows already. Well, you don’t know he knows, so he plays the part.

“So, what do you do for work? To be able to get a coffee at this hour?”

You look up at him, “I’ve got flexible hours, I work from home. I’m in tech, so I can work whenever.”

It explains your habits. Tech suits you, it’s all routine and codes.

“What about you?”

“I’m in the FBI. I don’t have a normal schedule you could say.”

“Woah, that’s cool. I’ve never met someone in the FBI. Policing yeah, but that’s like a step above for sure.”

“A few steps above” he says with a dead face. He’s not saying it to be cocky, he just doesn’t really like the NYPD. He finds them ineffective.

You chuckle, thinking it’s his type of humour and he’s joking.

You stroll around the neighbourhood. You get to know him, while he already knows you. You learn things he likes, he only confirms his theories about you while you feed him info about your life. You’re very alike to the version of you he had created in his mind. You smile often, you speak with your hands a lot. He thinks he likes this version of you even more, the real you.

Your phone rings. “Sorry”, you say as you take it out of your pocket. “I need to take it”, you answer the call. He nods at the statement.

He looks at you while you’re on the phone. You’re mostly listening, the person on the other end of the line scrambling through words. You remain calm, which resonates with him. Being relaxed in emergencies or situations out of your control is very important to Dex. He needs that in his person. In you. This only confirms he was right, you are the perfect candidate to be his North Star. But are you meant to be his North Star? He hopes so.

The call ends and you put your phone away. “I need to run, work calls”, you give an apologetic smile.

“You can be sure I understand.” He does, it’s not rare he needs to rush into work.

You reach for his arm, resting your hand on the side of his bicep for a second. You look up at him, “Thank you. And thank you for the walk. How about I give you my number and you hit me up when you’re free for coffee?”

He nods before speaking. This is his shot to insert himself in you life truly- to get more of you.

He smile shyly, handing you his phone, “How ‘bout dinner next time?”

You smile brightly, taking his phone in your hands, “Yeah, dinner sounds nice”.

He watches you enter your phone number in his phone and send a text to yourself. He relaxes when you take out your own phone with your other hand and he sees him phone number pop up on your screen. You actually gave him your number. This is real.

You hand him his phone back, “Hit me up when you’re free.”

He puts his phone in his pocket, grinning internally, “I will. Take care”

“You too, Dex!” You give him a final smile before turning away.

And just like that, you’re walking away. You start jogging down the street. Maybe your work emergency is more serious than he thought. Still, you were nice enough to take the time to manifest your interest in seeing him again and give him your number.

He had done it. His planned worked. It went way better than he thought it would.

He opens his phone and goes to your contact page. He hesitates for a minute about changing your name to North Star, but he refrains from doing so in case you see his phone the next time you see him.

The next time you see him, he thinks and smiles. You actually want to see him again. You agreed to dinner with him. Dex couldn’t be more happy. His plan worked and things are going faster than expected. He has your number and a date to plan.

He thinks that the stars might be alining for him after all these years. That since Dr. Mercer died, life had finally sent him a new North Star.

He thinks about how soon is too soon to text you and say he’s free whenever you are. He can’t wait to see you again.

~

That evening, he thinks about messaging you to ask if the work emergency was managed. He doesn’t know what to text.

A buzz gets his mind out of his thoughts. He looks at his screen, your name on it, with a message under it.

Hey, I had a crazy afternoon, are you free for a drink tonight? You mentioned baseball and there’s a game tonight. We could catch it at a bar?

His heart melts. You remember he likes baseball. And you want to see him. Tonight.

He replies right away.

I’m free! Can’t wait for you to tell me about your crazy afternoon.

You’re in for a treat then!

You fix a place and hour to meet up. The game starts at 7:30, but you agreed to meet up at 8. He doesn’t mind missing part of the game, he knows he won’t pay attention to it anyways. Not when you’ll be next to him.

As he got ready, Dex thought about how he didn’t even have to text you, you had reached out to him first.

In that instant, he was sure: Life had definitely sent a new North Star his way.

——

You smile, “Thank you for offering, but no need.”

He walks over and leans on the bar, looking down at you. “I insist.”

You don’t like how he makes his shoulder look larger, his attitude is off.

“And I insist you don’t. Please”

You know he’s one of those guys who doesn’t back away easily, so you have to pull the husband card you usually play in these types of situation.

You continue, “It is very nice of you, and I appreciate your offer, but I’m already engaged. I’m waiting for my fiancé to come down”.

“Oh, okay. You mind if I wait with you?”

You mentally roll your eyes at him. He’s hoping you’re lying. The ring on your finger should be enough, but this guy clearly has nothing better to do. From the corner of you eye, you see Shane walk in.

You smirk at the guy, “No need, he’s here.”

You stand up and walk towards Shane with a rapid step. As soon as you reach him, you throw your arms around his neck.

You whisper quickly in his ear, “you are my fiancé, there’s this creep at the bar.”

“Gotcha.”

When you pull back, there’s a look in Shane’s eyes. It’s primal. You can’t pinpoint if it’s anger or something else. Maybe a hint of lust? You don’t have time to decide before he grabs your hand and walks you to your usual spot at the bar. As you approach, the guy walks away, without saying a word more.

What you don’t know is that Shane gave him a death stare as you were hugging him. The look in his eyes was a mix of everything he was feeling at the moment: anger at the guy, lust towards you and excitement about what the night might have in store for him.

You’ve been talking his ear off for a minute but he’s not registering anything. He can’t stop thinking about the way you didn’t hesitate to launch your arms around him. It made him feel something new. It wasn’t lust, he had felt that before. He can only describe it as possessiveness, like you were his. He knows you’re not, but he wants you to. He marked you as his pray that first night, he’s not backing down from the chase until he gets you.

He snaps out of his thought when he feels your hand on his forearm.

“Shane, you okay?”

He realizes you look worried, after all, he hasn’t responded to anything you said since you sat down.

He shakes his head, “Yeah, yeah. I’m just thinking about how we’re even. You were my fiancee on the hike, I’m your fiancee here. That makes us even”

You nod and hum.

“We are.”

He grins, “I still owe you a drink, but we’re even for the rest.”

“Good, cause you owe me for catching me off guard like that today.”

He signals the bartender and orders you a drink each.

“So, what trail are you doing tomorrow? Are you gonna hike to see the sunrise?”

“I’m thinking of doing that tomorrow. I’ve put my alarm at 4. I won’t be staying up too late tonight”

“Bummer. What path are you heading up?”

“I haven’t decided. I was hoping you would give me your opinion on the matter.”

“Why don’t I hike up with you? I proved today that I didn’t want to kill you.”

A laugh escapes your lips from the way he said it.

“I know- you like me too much to kill me” you blurt it out as if it was the most obvious thing. Cause it is to you, he must like hanging around you to help you out and want to go on hikes with you. You assume he’s lonely, working in the park where the population is so small. The people he sees and meets only pass by for a few days, while he stays.

“That is a serious accusation right there. I tolerate you. It’s not the same.”

Tolerate is the word he chose. In his mind, he’s thinking about the word like, cause he likes you. You are right about that. He won’t tell you though.

From that moment he saw you at the bar, he’s wanted to get you in bed. Wanted to add you to his hit list.

“Sure, tolerate. We’ll go with that”

In that instant he thinks about what to say. He’s been discret, no? Have you seen through his plan? Do you see the way he looks at you? Do you notice how he holds your hand a little longer than needed? Do you notice how he scans the room when he enters the bar, hopping you’re already there. Worst, did you realize he arranged the meet up on the hike today?

“You’re right. You proved you didn’t want to kill me. And you’re a good guide. So- since you tolerate me, want to join me tomorrow morning?”

He grins, “I don’t know if I want to anymore.”

You roll your eyes, “Whatever Shane, I’ll go with or without you”. You take a sip of your drink.

“I’m messing with you, of course I’ll come. I’ll meet you at 4:30 in front of the hotel. We’ve got about an hour hike to make it to the spot I have in mind. Bring your frontal light. You do have one, right?”

You nod, “yup, I came all prepared!”

He smirks, “good girl”.

There he goes again with another pet name. You let it slide.

You chat a little more before deciding it’s late enough. You’ve got to be ready by 4:30 after all.

“I’m calling it a night. See you tomorrow Shane.” You stand up and look at him.

He raises his beer my way, “See ya. Goodnight”

You nod and walk out. You feel Shane eyes on you until you leave his view completely. You head up and get to bed.

~

Shane is there at 4:20 in front of the hotel. He didn’t want to have you waiting in cause you came down early. He hadn’t stopped thinking about you since last night - well, since he saw you that first night.

You walk out the front door, with a small backpack and your frontal light on your head already. “Good morning!”.

You’re all smiles, he can’t help but give you a small smile in return, “Morning, you good to go?”

You salute him, he had shared with you about being an army ranger “Ready when you are.”

He rolls his eyes at you and gestures for you to walk with him. You fall in step next to him.

Shane hadn’t lied, it was about an hour hike. Once you reach the top, there’s a small glimpse of light, the sun is barely starting to rise. You look around, you’re at a the top of a cliff, no way near any paths. Shane did mention the spot he had it mind was secluded.

“This is perfect Shane!”

You put your backpack on the ground and take out the small blanket you brought with you. As if your minds were connected, you see Shane doing the same, his blanket clearly bigger. He nods your way.

“How ‘bout you sit with me on mine and keep yours in case you get cold?”

You hum, agreeing, “Sure.”

You walk over to where is blanket is laid. You take off your boots and sit on the blanket.

You finally see a tiny part of the sun appear far away. The sky starts to change colours, shades of pink and yellow taking over the night sky.

You look over at Shane, “The timing is perfect, thanks for coming with me.”

“I did offer you my services on the first night, it wouldn’t have been very nice of me to turn you down.”

“Fair.”

You both know he’s not here with you because of his services. He’s here cause he likes your company, and you like his. Well, you also needed his expertise and help with the trail, but you enjoy his presence too.

You sit there, enjoying the sunrise, without exchanging a word. The wind and the sound of nature surround you.

You feel his eyes on you. You turn and meet his glare, his eyes full of list. This time there’s no hesitation, no internal debate, he wants you. You can see it in his eyes, and maybe he can see it in yours, you think, cause you want him too.

He looks at your lips for a second, they’re parted slightly, inviting. He leans down and presses his lips to yours. You kiss him back, opening your lips a little more. He doesn’t mistake the invitation, sliding his tongue into your mouth. He puts his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you closer, his other hand on the ground, stabilizing him. Your free hand goes to his hair. He sits up staighter for a moment to pull you on top of him with his other hand.

Once you’re on top, straddling him, he leans back and puts one hand on the ground to stabilize himself again. You feel his hard-on growing against his pants between your legs. You start grinding against him automatically, but jolt to a stop when you think about where you are. Someone could see you.

You break the kiss, pulling back just enough to rest your forehead on his. He’s catching his breath.

You whisper, “We shouldn’t, what if we get caught?”

He chuckles against your mouth, “Sweetheart, we’re way off trail, no need to worry”

“But-“

“I promise we won’t get caught. Trust me”

A moment later, you press your lips against his, signaling that you do trust him. You’d lie if you didn’t think this was hot- hooking up at the top of a cliff.

He doesn’t miss a beat, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and lifting it over your head. You copy him, eager to see him shirtless. You’ve thought about it since you felt him pressed against your back while watching the deers. Theory confirmed: He’s ripped as fuck. You roam your hands over his chest and back.

He clearly wants to see your chest too, cause his hands go to your bra. He takes it off in a swift motion.

He kisses your jawline, he bites your neck, then goes to work on your collarbone briefly before reaching his target. He sucks on one of you buds, while his hand gives attention to the other. He squeezes it, then rubs his thumb over your nipple, making your head snap back in pleasure.

You start grinding against him, feeling his cock pressing against his pants, trying your best to get as much friction as possible. There’s too many layers between you to your liking.

“Shane, I need more”

He lets go of your tit, “You don’t need to tell me twice”. He sucks on the other one, while his hand goes down the front of your abdomen. He cuffs you over your shorts for a second, the look you give him enough to make him understand this won’t suffice, not even a minute. He grins as he slides his hand in your shorts, you’re not wearing any panties. He groans at the revelation. He drags a finger over your folds, already wet from the anticipation.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

He draws small circles on your clit, finally touching you where you’ve been wanting. It’s not enough, you still need more. More of him.

You grind against his hand, while his other one is squeezing your ass. He slides two fingers in you, making your back arch. You put both your hands on his broad shoulders as you ride his fingers. Your nail are digging into his back, but he couldn’t care less. The thought of you being this hot while you ride his fingers is enough to make his forget the marks you’re currently leaving. He adds a third finger and curls them inside you. You know you’ll get close if he continues.

“Shane- I need you to fuck me.”

He takes his fingers out in a swift motion. Before you can complain about the emptyness you feel, he picks you up by the waist and lays you down on the blanket. He towers over you. He tugs at your shorts and almost rips them while taking them off of you. You prop yourself on your elbows as you watch him get undressed. Your jaw drops at the sight of him bare. He lays on top of you, kissing you.

You reach for his shaft, stroking it and rubbing your thumb over the head. He groans through the kiss. He reaches for your hand and puts his over it, guiding you through a few more strokes. He takes your hand off and looks at you, kneeling for a second to put on a condom. He gets on top of you again, his mouth planting open-mouth kisses to your neck. You feel his tip against your folds. He teases you, before entering you with one hard thrust.

“Shane”, you try not to cry out.

He buries his head in the creek your neck, “you can be as loud as you can, let me hear you.”

He starts moving, his thrusts slow at first. He’s big, but he feels so good inside of you. Your hands rest on his back. He picks up the speed, fucking you senseless. You try to bite back moans but fail, to Shane’s greatness please.

“Come on baby, scream my name. Let the world know who’s making you feel this good. Who’s fucking you into oblivion.”

He dirty talks while thrusting into you faster and harder.

“Shane, I’m close…”

“Good”

He takes your ankles and brings your legs up, hitting you even deeper. He rams into you like there’s no tomorrow, like fucking you is his only purpose.

“So close”

He reaches to where your bodies are joined and starts applying pressure on your clit with his thumb, drawing small circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Come on, baby. Be a good girl. I need to feel you squeeze me. Feels so good”

And you do- you come undone under him, his name escaping your lips like a prayer. You scratch his back as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, you feel so good, I won’t last much longer sweetheart. You feel so good.”

He thrusts into you a few more times before reaching his climax too. He releases. His paces slows down, until he completely stops and pulls out. He lays on his back next to you.

You breathe heavily, still coming down from the high. You’ve never had sex outdoors like this, in the middle of nature. It was wild, and so worth it. You lay there in silence for a while, both taking in what happened.

He props himself up on his side, looking at you. He enjoys the view of your naked body.

He grins, “Told you we couldn’t get caught.” He plants a wet kiss on your lips. You smile at him, eyes shining from your orgasm.

You feel his hand drags up your inner thigh, you put your hand on his wrist to stop it from getting to where it’s clearly headed.

You look up at him, sitting up on the blanket, “As interested as I am in round two, let’s head back and go at it in my room. I’ve had my share of worrying about getting caught for the day.”

He smirks, “As you wish- although I do recall you screaming my name, not caring about getting caught minutes ago.”

You smack his shoulder, “stop being so cocky”. You reach for your shorts.

He grins, “I’m just stating facts.”

You both get dressed and pack your things up. You start heading down, Shane leading the way as you are off trail.

You speak to yourself, “I can’t wait to take a shower.”

He smirks, “Sounds sexy.” He looks down, clearly frustrating from something, “Fuck. Why did we have to hike? I should’ve convinced you to come up on my ATV”

You roll your eyes playfully at him, “I came here to hike and enjoy the view. You were just a plus. You’ll get me all to yourself all afternoon, now quit complaining”

“Im nit complaining about having you to myself. But still, I need to hike down 50 more minutes before I get to be balls deep inside you.”

You choke on air at his statement. It’s not out of character, but it caught you off guard. You chuckle at the fact that he’s so sexually frustrated.

Shane spends the rest of the way down thinking about what he’ll do to you once you reach your room. He’ll fuck you from behind in the shower, then he’ll eat you up until you beg him to let you cum. He’s been drinking about tasting you for days now. He can’t wait to get back to the hotel to get his hands on you.

He realizes the chase is over, he has caught you after all. Now he gets to enjoy the fruit of his effort until your vacation is over. That’s why he lives for the chase.

——

When he sat down at the bar, at his usual place, the last stool in the corner, he had spotted you. You were sitting alone, three spots away from him. He saw the ring you wore on your ring finger but that didn’t stop him. It hadn’t stopped the last few women who had them. He didn’t interact with you immediately, he preferred watching and analyzing you first. That was the first stage of the hunt: knowing the pray.

He saw how not one, but two men tried to buy you a drink. You had politely replied. The first one didn’t insist, the second really wanted to pursue you. Shane couldn’t blame him, you were so beautiful. When the guy didn’t back down, you had played the ring card. Said you where married and that your husband was upstairs in your room. Shane saw right through the lie. The guy pursuing you didn’t and finally backed away. You still gave him a small smile, more than he deserved, Shane thought.

He felt the moment was right, so he initiated the conversation, “Do they all believe it?”

You looked his way, raising an eyebrow. He nodded towards the ring on your finger. “When you play the husband card, do they all go away?”

“Yeah, they do.”

He just nodded, taking another sip of beer, “Too bad for them, they’re just dumb”.

“How so?”

“There’s no way you’ve got a husband upstairs. You may have a husband- thought I doubt it- but he’s not upstairs if he exists.”

You felt like entertaining this. After all, he was right, you only wore that ring during your solo trip, to keep away unwanted attention. He was right, but you wouldn’t let him know. You smirked. “And what makes you think that?”

“If I were your husband, there’s no way I’d let my beautiful wife go alone at the bar. I’d be keeping her busy… in the room”. Another sip of beer.

“Good thing you’re not my husband then, I don’t know if you’d be able to keep up with me.”

“I doubt that’d be hard for me to do.” He winked.

“I guess we’ll never know.” You stood up. “Enjoy your night.”

“You too, tell hubby Shane said good night.”

You rolled your eyes, walking away.

Oh, the chase will be good, he thought.

And that’s why he’s now walking along the trails in the middle of the day, hopping to bump into you. He had caught you saying to the bartender that you were here for the week, to hike and explore the park. Shane knows his chances of seeing you are slim, there are so many trails. Even if he’s a good hunter, he doesn’t have enough information to know where you’d be.

He hopes you’ll be at the bar tonight. He even plans on going earlier tonight, to make sure he doesn’t miss you. So there he is, at the bar, sipping a bear and eating peanuts. You walk in at around 9:40, hair down, wearing jeans and a nice blue top. You sit down at the same stool you did last night. The bartender comes to you immediately and you order.

Shane grins to himself, “Hubby is still in the room? Are you sure he’s not sick?”

You chuckle, mentally rolling your eyes that he’s there, “What do you want?”

“To chat, that’s all. I’ll even pay for your drink if you let me”

“I won’t.”

“That’s what I thought.”

The bartender hands you your drink. To Shane’s surprise, and greatness pleasure, you take your drink in your hand and stand up, walking over to the still next to his.

You sit down. “So, what to you wanna chat about?”

“Trails. I’m wondering what hikes you’re planning and if they’re the best ones.”

You raise an eyebrow. He grins, “I’m a wildlife management officer. I know this park like the back of my hand. I’m offering my services.”

“Then you can be of service. I really want to see the sunrise, enjoy the morning sights. Is there a trail you recommend?”

“I can recommend one - or I can take you where there’s no trail and the best view.”

“I’m not trying to go anywhere with you Shane. I’m just chatting.”

He grins. “I am the best guide. I’m sure hubby wouldn’t mind. It’s not like he’d accompany you, he’s asleep all day probably anyway”.

You laugh, “Okay, let’s drop the husband talk please.”

He looks dead in your eye, not even trying to hide his smirk, “You started it”.

You roll your eyes and take a sip of your drink. He clears his throat, “if you change your mind, I’m here all year long”

“I’ll let you know if I do.”

He nods, satisfied that you didn’t shut down his idea completely.

“So, what kind of wildlife management do you do?”

“I control the deer population, I make sure no sickness gets too many of them.”

“That’s nice, so you must see deers everyday”

“Yup, amongst other animals. I’ve been in other parks too, but this one is special. There’s just so much to see and look after. What trail are you doing tomorrow?”

“I’m doing the Mist Trail”.

He nods, “Good choice. It may get crowded in the afternoon, it’s a popular one.”

You shake your head a little, “I don’t mind a crowd. I sense that you do mind the crowd.”

He scruffs. “I’m more a nature guy, I prefer animals to humans”

“I get it, some people are animals”

“Touché”.

You talk for a while, the conversations flowing. You wouldn’t have thought this would be such a fun night, but it is. You pull out your phone, and see it’s already 12:37.

“Well this has been nice, but I’ll call this a night.”

“No worries, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You raise an eyebrow at the statement. “You’ll come down to the bar, probably. I’ll be here at 10, I’ll save you a seat”

You smile his way, finding the offer sweet, yet out of character. “See you tomorrow, Shane.”

You head to the elevator and head up to your room.

~

The next day, Shane knows what trail he’s doing. The Mist trail. The only thing he doesn’t know is at what time he should hike it. He wants to see you, but make it look like a happy coincidence. He preps his camp, as he always does before leaving for the day. He heads for the Mist trail, hoping his plan works out.

When he spots you, he stays just off the trail, waiting for a good moment to “meet you”. After 20 minutes of following you, you stop at a view point. When he feels like you’re about to start hiking again, he hops on the trail and starts walking. He guesses right, cause about 2 minutes in, he hears you.

“Shane!”

He stops and turns around, greeting you. “Hey! Where’d you come from?”, trying his best to sound sincere.

You point to the peak, “I was just at the view point. This is a beautiful hike”

He nods, “It truly is.”

“I’d ask you to hike together but I guess you’re working?”, you point to the rifle strapped over his shoulder.

“I am, but I can keep you company for a while. I’m going in this direction anyways.”

You smile, “I don’t mind a little company.”

“Good.”

His plan worked, just as he’d hoped. You trail together, in silence, a side from the small thank you you say when he offers you his hand when he deems necessary.

He also offers help when he thinks you’d see it as chivalry, cause he enjoys any contact you’re ready to give him.

“We’re almost there.” He offers his hand and you take it, welcoming the steadiness as you climb a big rock.

Once you get up there, you see the view. It takes your breath away, enough for you to forget Shane is still holding your hand. When you do come to your senses, you realize you’re standing close to Shane’s chest, your hand still in his. He looks at you, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you from the moment you got up there. You take a step back to separate from him and walk closer to the edge of the peak. You take in the view. You stay there for a while, not caring about anything. This is exactly why you took this vacation and chose to come here. Shane looks over the park, he doesn’t get tired of the view. He never will. He sneaks a peak at you every now and then. He’s taking a liking to seeing his park through your eyes. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’s actually taking a liking to you. Point blank.

After what could be 10 minutes like it could be 30, Shane turns to you. “I’d like to show you something.” His tone is softer than usual.

You nod, smiling. “Yeah, sure”.

You follow him and you start heading down the trail.

“We’ll cut through here”, he orders.

You stop in your tracks. “You’re aware you’ve got a gun, right? I’m not going off trail with you.“

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to harm you.” You don’t bulge.

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already”

You can’t help but grin, “How reassuring Shane.”

He looks you dead in the eyes, “Baby, just trust me”. You give him a look, unimpressed with the pet name.

“I promise it will be worth it and that I won’t hurt you.” He offers his hand.

After doing the pros and cons in your head, you put your hand in his. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

You follow him for a while, still wondering if you made the right choice. He spots abruptly, making you halt too.

He whispers, “we’re here”.

He nods down towards the valley. You can’t believe your eyes, you’ve never seen so many deer in the same place. They all look peaceful.

Shane takes his riffle in his hands and puts it on one of the huge rocks separating you both from the herd of deers. He looks through the objective lens of the gun.

“We can’t go closer cause we’re on foot.”

After a second, he looks at you and he speaks again. “Here, take a look.” He offers you the riffle.

You hesitate for a moment, not moving, not sure how to hold the gun. He stands up straight, leaving the gun on the rock.

“Come closer, I’ll show you.”

You followed him off trail for this, to look at what he wanted to show you- share with you. You step closer to him. He doesn’t miss a beat, putting both his hands on your waist to position you right where he wants you.

“Here.”

He takes the riffle and hands it to you, showing you where to put your hands on it. You hold it up.

“Good.”

He positions himself behind you, putting his arms around you and his hands over yours. He moves your arms slightly to the left, and raises your right elbow higher.

“Now you just need to look”

You do, you close your left eye and look through the lens with your right eye. The deers look so close, it takes your breath away.

“Wow, this is incredible”

You move slowly, observing the whole herd in their natural habitat. You enjoy the view, completely forgetting that Shane is pressed against you, arms wrapped around yours, making sure you hold the riffle right. Shane is well aware of the position you are in. He cares about the deers, but in this moment, he only cares about you being too captivated by them, clearly not caring about the proximity of your two bodies. You feel his breath softly on your neck, you’re still looking at the deers, but suddenly, you’re not thinking about them anymore.

You snap out of it and stand straighter, moving the gun down in front of you. Shane’s arms follow, and he lets go of you as you turn around to face him. You hand him the riffle. He takes it and puts the strap over his shoulder.

“Thank you. This was definitely worth it.” He grins at the call back.

You’re smiling brightly, “I can’t believe this is what you do for work.”

You follow him as he guides you back to the trail. When you get back on the path, you come face to face with a man and a woman. By their uniform, you gather that they are rangers. You stop walking, Shane standing on your right side.

The man speaks, looking at Shane, then you, “Shane, just the guy we wanted to see. You’ve got company.”

He offers his hand to you. “I’m agent Turner, you can call me Kyle. And this is Service Ranger Vasquez.”

You shake his hand, “Nice to meet you, Kyle.”

You turn to Vasquez who’s also offering her hand. She nods, “You can call me Naya, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You nod, smiling. “The pleasure is all mine.”

You let go of each others hand and she smiles brightly, “I didn’t know Shane had a girlfriend, yet a beautiful one like you”

You blush from the compliment and look down for a brief moment. “Oh, I’m not Shane’s girlfriend-

“She’s my fiance”, he cuts you off. He reaches over you to grab your left hand and brings it up, nodding to the ring on your finger. “She’s visiting for the week.”

Naya turns red, “I should’ve looked before saying.”

I gesture that it’s okay, “No worries! How long have you been here?”

You chat a little with Naya, not wanting her to feel bad for not seeing your ring. After all, it is a lie. Kyle looks at Shane. There’s tension between them.

You adresse Kyle and Shane, “I can take a step back if you’d like. I can wait for you over there while you have a word.”

Kyle shakes his head, “No need, we just need to know where Shane was last night, around 10-11. Until midnight actually.”

Shane puts his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

He smirks, looking at you. “You want to tell them?”

You rest your left hand on his chest. You notice how hard his pec feels. He’s fit, you think. You roll your eyes at him but smile once you look over at the two rangers to speak to them.

“We were at the bar at the hotel, until 12:40. We got there around 9- 9:30, I think.”

Shane nods beside you, cocky as hell, “Any other questions?”

Kyle responds, “No, but if you see something out of the ordinary, please let us know.”

Shane nods, “I will.”

Kyle nods to you both, more to you than to Shane you notice.

Naya looks at Shane, “thank you”, then smirks at you, “enjoy your stay”.

You smile at her and the two rangers continue hiking up. Shane looks at them until they are out of his vision, because looking back at you.

His eyes look into yours, “Thanks.”

“No worries”, your smile turning into a grin, “you owe me a drink for that.”

“Fair.” The corner of his mouth turns up.

You both start going down the trail. Shane can’t help but think about how you blushed when Officer Vasquez mentioned you were beautiful. It surprised him, to him, people must compliment you all the time, he had seen it at the bar the first night. Maybe it’s because it came from another woman and not from a man whose only mission is to get in your pants. Maybe it’s because she had said it in a group setting and that Officer Turner and him had witnessed it.

He also thinks about how relaxed you seemed when he helped you with the riffle. You hadn’t seemed at ease with the idea of holding it, but you had let him guide you through it. He thinks about how he had smelled your shampoo: coconut and vanilla. He thinks about how your hand fits perfectly in his when he offers you help. He thinks about how your body felt against his while you observe the herd. He he wants more. He needs more.

After all this was The Chase. And he lived for it.

——