#uvo

"It's nothing, j-"The smaller man next to him had spoken first, but was cut off by the other's voice.

"You shouldn't be alone out here." He looked down at you, as if annoyed.

You looked up at the man, still having his hands on your arms. Keeping you upright and in place. You were taken aback by what he had just said.

"I-I'm just heading home." He was right, but it was still rude.

Once you began to stand up straight, he let go. You brushed past them, trying to pick up speed. You couldn't shake off the oddness of the interaction. Why on earth would he say that? You shuddered at the interaction.

Your heels hit the pavement, echoing in the empty streets. Not many people were out in this area. Most had taken a cab to the little bars that were further back. Smart, unlike you. Perhaps saving a few bucks wasn't worth bumping into weirdos like the guys back there.

As you finally hit the main road, your worry vanished. Cars were passing by, people were walking about, and a bus was about to pull up to the stop soon. The eerie feeling of the walk there was vanishing. You'd be home soon, safe with these stupid heels off.

It wasn't long till the bus arrived. Hoping on, choosing to sit near the back by the window. Sighing in relief as you sat down. Taking the pressure off your feet. Leaning your head against the window. You looked out as the bus began to move. Your eyes widened as you looked out. You sat up straight, staring at the view before you.

Looking back from the other side of the window, down the street you had just come were the two men from before. The smaller, leaner one was leaning against the building by the sidewalk. Looking off down the road, but the large man. He was staring directly at you, smiling as if happy with himself. Once he realized you were looking at him, he began to wave. Keeping that smile that made your pick up, on his face. The bus drove away, but you kept your eyes on them as long as possible and it seems he did too.

They followed you to the bus stop. They had followed you. It wasn't a coincidence. You had bumped into them going the opposite direction. They had purposely pursued you. Suddenly, the pain in your feet became the least of your worries. Every stop, every new passenger you stared at. Fearing the men had somehow gotten to the stop before the bus and were waiting for you. Every new passenger made your heart race, your palms sweat and your head pound. The announcements began to drown out, sounding out of reach. The only thing you could hear was the doors opening and closing. You had almost missed your stop. So worried and focused on the doors. Pulling the string last minute, you shot up. Racing to the front doors.

Stepping out, you looked around. The bus sped off behind you. Your stop was a few blocks from your place. There weren't many people out. A few cars passed by, a few people were out walking their dogs, but that was it. Heading home, you stayed alert. Looking behind you every few steps. Afraid those men would appear again. You couldn't shake off how creepy it was. Why were they at the bus stop? Maybe they were trying to catch the bus? No, there was only one bus on that route, and they made no attempt to get on, and the taller guy was waving at you. Clearly they had followed you, but why? You shuddered at the thoughts, trying to convince yourself they were making sure you were safe. Even if it was bizarre and unrealistic.

Finally you were home. Kicking off your shoes, you made your way to your room. Shedding off your clothes and removing your makeup. All you wanted was the comfort of your bed. The safety of your room. The sweet feeling of slumping on the bed, the pressure off your feet. Laying on the bed, you began to doze off. Comfort and safety took over as your eyes closed. Tomorrow you would forget about your weird journey home and just remember the bad choice in shoes and the fun you had with your friends.

Your alarm blared on your nightstand. Demanding you to wake and face all the bad choices from the night prior. Your head pounded from the previous drinks as you woke. Looking out the window, you noticed the sun was barely up. Shit, could you call off sick? Would your boss even care? The answers were no and yes. He was a dick and already was in a bad mood due to new projects. Your absence would just be something he could harp on you for. Claiming there was no one else to cover reception, a lie. There was, however, there was no one who wanted to cover reception.

Pushing yourself out of bed, you ignored the soreness in your feet and the rest of your body. Dressing yourself and preparing breakfast. Putting some bread in the toaster, deciding on something simple and light. You reached for the top of a cabinet, getting down your jar of coffee beans.

"Fuck." You closed your eyes and sighed as you held the empty jar.

You would need to hit the coffee shop before work. There were no good ones on your way to the office, which meant you had to go to the one a few blocks out of your way.

Packing your lunch and laptop for the office. You headed out, making your way to the shop. It wasn't too out of the way, just a few blocks in the wrong direction. You had left early enough. It should be fine, not cutting into your time getting to work. Your feet would hate you, but there was no way you could get through the day without some form of caffeine.

The ache in your feet was bearable now that you were wearing runners and not heels. Though the rest of you was still in rough shape. Head foggy, body tired. You just wanted a coffee and rest. Turning the corner, you headed through the front doors of the shop. Hearing the chimes above the door as you went to order. Ordering your usual before stepping aside. Waiting for the barista to make your drink.

The bells above the door chimed again. Looking up, expecting to see another poor early riser getting their morning fix. Opening your mouth to give a greeting, you stopped yourself when you saw who it was. Oh god, your body was no longer tired. No, fear was taking over. Making your heart pick up pace as you looked at the man's face. You knew that face. The unkempt hair, the stumble, the wide eyes that stared directly at you like the night before. It was the taller of the two men. The one who had caught you. He was here, here in your local coffee shop. Far from that area last night. There was no overlap. There should be no overlap, he shouldn't be here.

He made his way towards you, his eyes held on you. Your eyes glued to him as well. His held pleasure. Yours held dread and terror. You took a step back, pushing your back into the counter. Trying to further yourself from him. This wasn't a chance run in. Someone wouldn't come towards a random they bumped into the night before and were rude to.

The barista's voice broke both of your stares. She was calling out your name and order. Handing you your drink and motioning your stalker to the cash register. You took his distraction to grab your drink and bolted out the door. Looking back into the shop's windows to ensure he wasn't following. He wasn't, you saw him ordering his drink at the counter. Taking a sigh of relief. Perhaps you were in your head. Scared of imaginary scenarios and villains. Turning towards your work, those calming feelings disappeared as quick as they came. Standing on the other side of the entrance was the creep's companion. Leaning against the wall. He looked up at you, gave a weak smile then went back to looking elsewhere.

Your body reacted quicker than your mind could. Your feet carried you down the street. Picking up speed with every step. You ignored the feeling of the burning coffee hitting your hand. The pain and panic that was coursing through you. They had followed you, they were stalking you. This wasn't some messed up coincidence. They had followed you. Faster and faster you moved. It wasn't until you hit the front doors of your work did you allow yourself to relax and breathe. Standing past the doorway, looking back. As if expecting to see those men again standing there. Waving smiling. You waited for their faces to pop up, but it never came. You were safe. Safe inside the building. Finally, you took in the scene around you. You were hyperventilating in the lobby of your work building. People were staring. Trying to calm yourself down, you headed to the elevators. Jumping into a mostly empty one. Giving a weak smile to the people with you before turning around and using the elevator mirrors to fix yourself up. Your hair was wild from the run. Shit, you tried to fix it the best you could with one hand. Running your fingers through the parts you could or patting it down. After some fiddling, you made your hair somewhat presentable. Now turning to your outfit, looking at the coffee on your coat. At least none got on your pants and top. You wouldn't look crazy with a clean outfit even if your hair was a bit wild. You had managed to spill about half your drink on yourself and the ground while running. So much for your morning pick up. Turning towards the door, you leveled your breathing one last time before heading to your desk.

The day had seemed long. You were still on alert. Terrified that they would turn up again. Apart of you wanted to say it was all a weird coincidence, but you knew better. No one acknowledges a random bump in from the night before. No one sane stares at another person the way he did. The idea of calling the police crossed your mind, but you knew it was foolish. You didn't have proof and they hadn't actually hurt or threatened you.

The day dragged on, lunch came and went. Every ding of the elevator, or opening of an office door had your head snapping towards the noise. Your chest would pick up from the heavy and quick breathing. Chills would run down your body, freezing your actions for a few seconds till you saw their face. Till you knew you were safe. There was nowhere to hide. You were the receptionist. You had to see and greet every new face that walked in. Had to watch as people walked in and out of the elevators. 5 o'clock couldn't come fast enough.

The walk home was filled with the same fear and paranoia. Always looking over your shoulder. Sure you were certain they hadn't followed you to work, but then again. You were convinced they hadn't followed you past the bus stop. Days and days were like this. Repeating the anxiety of leaving the house, of seeing them. Every movement from the corner of your eye had you on full alert. Every day was the same. Panic to work, panic at work and panic at home. Yet, you hadn't seen them again. Days past. You were beginning to feel somewhat safe again.