You're sitting at a wooden bench, by your lonesome, looking over a lake in a park not too far from your house. It's early afternoon, and springtime has finally settled in. You're absorbed with the beauty and sweet smell of nature blooming after a long winter slumber, preparing itself for the oncoming summer.
Suddenly, you hear soft footsteps behind you. You freeze, so as not to alarm whatever or whoever is coming up behind you. You then hear the familiar click of the safety being removed from a gun, possibly a small one. The footsteps stop, and you slowly turn your head, curious as to who this person is and why they're doing what they're doing.
When you turn your head, you see a man, the barrel of his gun pointed directly at you. He's silent and steady, with no disguise; he looks like an average Joe who decided not to put any effort into shielding his identity from his potential victim.
You stand up from the bench, turning and aligning the rest of your body to face this man. You stare each other down, and you instantly see the fear in his eyes. The man steadies himself, but it looks like the gears are turning quickly in his head. You change your expression to a certain sternness, narrowing your gaze. Fright furrows his eyebrows.
You start to walk towards him, and in your peripheral, you notice his free hand shaking slightly. He's scared of your stance, and there's no telling what he'd do in the the heat of the moment through fear. You stop in your track, and his mouth opens slightly, revealing some teeth. He's scared shitless, and it only takes a bullet to stop you from possibly hurting him. But you're aware of how paralyzed he is from fear, and, on a whim, you head lowers, your eyes stay on him, and your mouth curls up into a deviant smirk.
The man screams, turning and running back in the same direction he came. he trips over himself continuously yet catches his fall with every trip-up. As he runs farther and farther away from you, you turn towards the lake and sit down on the bench again, stupefied.
"Does he not like me?" you ask yourself...
