Hesitation

He was in that room. Yes, that room, right over there. I got up as he walked out, I followed, yet he never saw me. Did it matter? I never saw his face. Only that it had to be him. Measured steps, uncertainty brimmed from his too-tight shoulders. I frowned. Could he sense me? Impossible. I could stalk anyone I wanted to and not be seen unless I decided to show myself. He trudged out of the creaky building, into the street. Quietly I followed, body pressed against the wall.

The heavens sprinkled upon my coat as I broke out from the shelter. He sauntered on, unperturbed by the rain, a slight shiver, almost unnoticeable but still...

I followed, soft steps almost inaudible, I had to know. I had to know if it really was him.

He took a turn, so sudden as if an attempt to slink away from me, but I kept pace with him. I could smell his panic, his fear. He had his arms around himself now, as if there was a need to keep himself warm in a summer's drizzle.

An abrupt stop.

I peered around the bend to inspect upon what has caused his pause. So he was the one, he looked at her nervously, handing her a package. Chocolates. How unimaginative. He couldn't have done much worse though. Did he honestly think this would earn him any favours? She would not be blind to his efforts to sway her decision. He took hold of her hand.

I took a step forward, crunching on dead gravel. And managed to pull myself back behind the corner from which I observed their rendezvous. This illicit meeting of two lesser souls.

Drats... She'd already left in my momentary lapse of concentration.

He was walking back towards me.

I took a breath, a step back, he collapsed.