He'd had to get out of that dorm. Bad enough that a couple of people took one little line posted publicly as an excuse to grill him for personal details...reading about everybody in town dreaming about the same creepy-ass old man was starting to get him nervy. Every time he reached in his pocket and felt that pocketwatch...
He should have left it at the dorm, he thought, even as his fingers closed over it again. It was sure to be bad luck, and every time he touched it it just creeped him out again. But something he couldn't explain had simply compelled him to take it as he swept out of the dorm and took to the sidewalk. He didn't really care where he was going--he knew how to find his way back to the dorm. He just needed to be somewhere, anywhere outside. Maybe he could even find a good scrap to blow off some steam...
That was when he heard the rustling of leaves overhead and paused. Too loud to be a bird...way too loud. Frowning, he peered up, and saw...
...his eyes turned sharply forward again, his face taking on a hint of red. "...what the hell are you doing?" he asked pointedly loudly of the view of skirt-interior he had been treated to.