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8: Stalker

last update Last Updated: 2022-05-30 21:20:37

DANIEL

I knew it was a cringeworthy measure that I had resorted to, but there was no other way of satisfying my curiosity. I am currently filtering the results of Liam Anderson on I*******m, but I can't seem to find the right profile.

It does feel weird, stalking him on social media, considering I never do such things. 

But I have to know him. There is something about him that's making me do things I wouldn't normally do. After coming up with countless wrong profiles, I tried to abbreviate his name differently, and still nothing.

I was almost giving up when an idea popped into my mind.  

I clearly remembered the said boyfriend's name from his file. I typed in the search bar and the second profile was his. He is quite famous among his peers. 

Luckily, the Spencer kid had tagged Liam in most of his posts. 

I don't know what I was expecting, but this is not it. Most of the pictures on his account were nature portraits. 

He only had three pictures of himself, and I did a screenshot of each. In my defense, they were not posted closely, and I was struggling to scroll up and down comparing them. 

I went back to the boyfriend's page, and found a few more of his pictures. 

I poured myself a neat brandy and sat comfortably on my couch and started studying him.  His pictures to be more factual.

I think we've already established that his eyes are quite stunning. It's like staring at glowing hot honey, under a scorching sun, if that makes any sense.

His blonde curls looked soft enough to want to run my fingers through them. In one of the pictures he has stuck his tongue out mischievously, his eyes closed, with his hands cupping each side of his face.

He is the type of guy I would go for a hundred percent, minus the inmate thing. 

He looked happy and content in the pictures, and I found myself wishing to see that part of him. I would very much like to see him laugh, or better yet see those brown orbs gleaming with happiness.

I know it's almost impossible, deeming the fact that he is probably living his worst life, but I can't stop wishing. By the time I finished my drink, there was no doubt in my mind of my attraction to him as a man.

I called it a night, knowing very well his face wasn't leaving my mind. 

******

When I arrived at work the following morning, I did a short briefing and continued with my expected morning rounds, before I retreated to my office. I tried to reduce the workload for the week. Luckily, I worked four hours straight with no disturbance. I finally managed to finish, with the parole papers, which was a huge relief. 

Without wasting time, I made a quick call, informing them to send a courier to pick the files. 

Afterwards, I decided to grant myself a wish, and visit Liam like I had been itching to, since I arrived in the morning.

I took a couple of minutes outside the infirmary, attempting to get my breathing under control. Since his door was opened, I stood leaning on it and just watched him. I had expected to find him sleeping, but he was too immersed in a book, to even notice me.

The various expressions, which appeared on his face the longer he read his novel, were cute to watch. It was obvious he loved reading, I thought heartily. We do have something in common. 

“Hey,” I greeted casually, startling him in the process. He quickly closed his book as I walked into the room, closed the door behind me and moved towards him. 

“Hi," he mumbled shyly. “…sorry, I didn't hear you come in.” He explained nervously, lowering his face, and my hands itched to grab his chin and lift his gaze to mine once again. 

“No need to apologize, you were engrossed in your book.”  I responded, watching him intently. “ You love reading. “ I observed as he clutched the novel in his hands. 

“I do,”

“Which genre do you like?” I wanted him to keep talking. I found his voice soothing. 

“Anything, as long as it's a good book.” He murmured, “I am only talking about novels,, of course. Not the…” And he began babbling. I found it cute. 

I didn't interrupt him, but rather watched as the smile blossomed on his face, the more he spoke. “…my father says…” He trailed off after mentioning his father, immediately sobering up.

“Are you okay?”

“ Yeah,” he lied, but I could see the apparent pain in his eyes.

“ What's wrong, Liam?” My use of his name must have surprised him. He raised his head fast, giving me a half-minute uncertain stare.  

“ I - I… am…" He trailed, exhaling deeply as tears sprang to his eyes. I kept silent and gave him time. “This place scares me,” he finally managed to whisper after he quieted. His despair and sadness were my undoing. “I am scared, Daniel.” He uttered in a more composed manner. 

I don't know what hit harder.  The way my name sounded, or his hopelessness. I found myself moving urgently closer to the bed. I sat by the edge and reached out to take his hand, careful not to cause him any pain. 

“I will try my best to keep you safe,” I promised earnestly, looking deep into his eyes to let him see the truth in mine.

“ Please don't make that promise.” He replied sadly, and my heart broke for him. He wasn't even trying, and I had no qualms letting him know.

“ Can't you just have a little faith?” I fired back, unable to hide my growing irritation.

I didn't expect him to start sobbing; otherwise I wouldn't have raised my voice at him. 

I rubbed his back and kept whispering that he wasn't alone.

After he calmed down, I asked if he needed anything, and he said whatever he wanted I couldn't help with. 

From what I had gathered, he wanted to talk to his dad, but as per the rules, it takes a week before any kind of communication with the outside world is granted for the new inmates. 

I used my heart to think, and I made my very first mistake.  I handed over my cell phone to him, with no hesitation.

The bright smile that filled his face as he dialed on my cell, was all worth it. I walked and stood by the door to ensure no one came in and realized my unprofessionalism.

“ Papa.....” He was once again sobbing, but this time they were tears of joy.

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