A homeless thief breaks into a house that has nothing worth stealing - except for the heart of a lonely man who is obsessed with time.
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Blake has been living on the streets for...
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-Jordan-
My alarm went off at 6:28 like it always did, but this time, I had trouble at getting out of bed. I had slept only a few hours during the night and I was tired. But I had to get up or my day would be ruined.
I did my morning chores as usual, but I kept glancing out of my glass walls whenever I passed them. I wanted to go see if Blake had returned yet to answer me. I was quite sure he hadn't, but I couldn't stop wondering.
When it was finally time to go water my plants, I rushed out, ignoring the watering can in the corner. I knelt down next to the flowerpot that held the note pinned against the floor. I grabbed the note, only to feel disappointment. Blake hadn't left me a new message.
He's a criminal for crying out loud... I thought to myself, and put the note back under the pot.
Criminal or not, I didn't mention him to my mother. God knows I had plenty of opportunities to do so since she called me three times during that day. I just couldn't tell her. My instincts told me not to.
I followed my daily plan obediently like always until the evening finally came. I grabbed my paintbrush and tried to concentrate on my painting, but my whole body was tingling from nervousness. It was already dark outside. I had seen Blake on my balcony around that same time yesterday. I wasn't expecting him or anything. Not at all.
I turned my painting the way I could keep an eye on my balcony while I painted. It was almost ready and soon, I could give it to my mother. After the painting was done I would start with another clay figurine. I hadn't decided yet what to make. Maybe an animal?
I tried to concentrate on my work, but I kept looking out so often my eyes started to hurt. I started to think that Blake wouldn't return anymore, but then, a couple of minutes later, I saw movement outside. I stopped painting and watched Blake pulling himself over the railings and gracefully landing behind the flowerpots.
It was obvious he saw me. He gave me a short salute, looking at me straight in my eyes while doing so before he knelt down. When he stood up again, he had my note in his hands. He walked to the wall and leaned back against it, flashing a smile at me. I turned my attention back to my painting without giving him any reaction. I still had no idea if I was doing the biggest mistake of my life by allowing the man to come back, so I was not obligated to say hello or even try to be friendly to him, to a trespassing criminal. I only wanted answers from him and then I would decide whether to call the cops on him or not.
My heart was racing, and my hands shivered lightly, but I didn't freak out. The feeling I had was pretty much the same I had whenever I talked with Mr. Xavier on Skype. I was feeling a little out of breath, but my mind was clear. I stole another look of Blake, who was still smiling at me while biting the tip of the pen I had left for him. He looked somehow intimidating and irresistible at the same time. Where did that thought come from?
