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-
I saw from the corner of my eye Blake climbing up on my balcony. I turned to look at him, holding my paintbrush in mid-air. The familiar lightheadedness surrounded me, as it always did when there was someone too close to me, but when Blake smiled at me, my breathing grew faster all of a sudden. He muttered something, but I couldn't make sense of it. When I frowned, he started writing on his notepad.
How are you today?
I couldn't help but smile back at him. I didn't want to do so, but something about him just... forced the smile out of me. I turned my attention back to my painting, getting rid of that smile.
"You're late," I said, making sure Blake could see my lips when I spoke.
I'm sorry. Your dad was outside.
Blake's smile vanished slowly, and he seemed hesitant when he started to write again.
I heard him talking to someone. He said something about selling the house.
Selling the house... That was the solution to all the problems my family had, but as long as I lived here... My heart felt heavy when the bad memories tried to resurface. I turned my eyes back to my painting. I knew my father wanted to send me to a mental hospital. He and Mom had been fighting over it for years. I couldn't even blame him. It would be for the best, but I dreaded that thought.
I didn't want to leave my home. I wanted to be close to my family, even though I wasn't able to see them. Living at home was the best way for me to live a somewhat normal life. It would be impossible in a mental hospital. But life there... I shivered at the thought of it. It wasn't life.
Are you all right?
I tried to smile at him before I checked the time.
"I suppose you heard him talk about sending me away," I guessed, and he nodded.
Can I ask why?
I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about it."
I glanced at him, and he seemed worried. Seeing that expression made me feel a bit better. Nonetheless, I would never talk about my personal issues with a petty thief.
"Why would you care about some stranger like me?" I asked.
Blake gave me a sad smile before he lowered his gaze to his notebook and wrote something.
I want to get to know you better.
"Why?" I almost laughed. "You broke into our house! You were planning to rob us! Do you think I honestly believe you're here just to make friends with me?"
I wasn't sure if I spoke slow enough for him to understand. He stared at my lips the entire time with a focused expression on his face, and when I stopped talking, he turned his attention to his notepad.
