Who: Ethan & Rowan When: Monday evening after work Where: Le park What: Rowan doesn't realise he's being watched... Rating: PG? Warning for stalking behaviour Status: In-Progress
Rowan didn't particularly like leaving work early - he had no one and nothing to go home too and the cold loneliness in his little apartment made him not only want to but often actually curl up and cry - but he was so tired that night. Feeling shivery and rough and aching in his bones, he wondered if he was coming down with some weird mortal illness here among the soulless cement and iron of their world. He had left into the sharp winter night with a laugh and a smile as he said goodbye that quickly faded away the longer he walked out. He bundled himself in a cardigan, hoodie and jacket over his long tshirt and he was wearing leggings under his jeans, feeling the cold that seemed so much colder in this inhospitable place. He had a scarf almost as long as he was around his neck and a hat that he'd found and fallen in love with on his head, lined with fluff and with flaps to cover his ears; people laughed at him when he wore it but he couldn't understand why. He'd rather look silly and keep his ears warm anyway. He had gloves on his hands, the kind without fingers, mittens with a thumb piece and ones that he could do absolutely nothing in. He was still cold even in all those layers, but the worst part was his feet. Even in the thickest pair of socks he had his feet were still freezing cold, his thin tennis shoes doing nothing to keep them warm, but he couldn't afford to buy any good winter shoes until at least his next two paychecks.
He shuffled through the park and felt himself calm a little, the greenery that surrounded him reminding him of home and putting him at ease; he could manage that as long as he didn't think too hard because it tended to lead to thoughts of his family and then he'd find that he'd started crying without his say-so. He started humming to himself a little as he detoured the way he usually did to walk through the wooded area instead of along the path, the feel of mast under his feet and the smell of the trees around him lifting his spirits a little. He couldn't hear as well with the hat on and with his humming and he was hardly keeping an eye out for trouble but, trusting and naive, he didn't even stop to think that there would be anything else in these woods, certainly nothing that might mean him harm.