James did not suspect that he was being stalked, that he was being hunted. He was the predator, and in his humble opinion, few did it as well as he did. It wasn't a matter of arrogance, but of being comfortable in knowing he was at the top of his game. In any case, the thought of being hunted by a barely-of-drinking-age young woman was so completely absurd that the possibility of such a thing never crossed the agent's mind. Especially not as he left his apartment for the evening, hoping to get in a brisk walk before the rain came in.
stepping out of the dorm, he glanced up to the sky, looking for signs as to how long he had. satisfied that he could get in something of an enjoyable stroll, he glanced around, noting the young woman on the bench. A student. James never had much reason to interact with students, which was fine by him. He wasn't the teaching sort. some students seemed to hang around the Centurion dorms fostering some sort of hero worship for the agents. James didn't really get it, though if he'd remembered his own youth, he probably had been susceptible to something similar himself. It had just been a little less... fan-girly. At least, that was his perception of the students now (not that he actually knew the term "fan girl").
Taking in a deep breath of the heavy, humid air, he shoved his hands in his pockets. And headed in the opposite direction of where Tori now sat.