Thatcher clicked his tongue a little, gaze dragging back to the male, watching his movements closely. “You took that the wrong way. You were on my way home. I did notice you though- just wanted your phone number was all, if you’re into that sort of thing,” he explained. “And oh yeah, Nike. I never got to apologize for that one. That dog is fucking rabid. Hates so many people but me. I think it’s her breed, very selective type.”
He nods. "My number huh? So the stalkers got a crush. What the hell." He reaches into his bag, pulls out a little pocket notebook and a pen flips to an empty page, and hands you his number. "Also, it's fine. Though that's a really shitty lie, ya know that? I'm a writer, I know the movements of a stalker. I suggest being a bit less reckless next time. But, keep the handsome face. I like it." He then gets called over by a librarian and walks over,looking over his work schedule for next week.
Thatcher chuckled. “Smart and pretty looking. Got the best of both worlds, I see,” he commented as he took the paper, glancing at it before stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans he wore. He watched the male leave and picked up a book that was nearby. Genetics.
"You ain't got me yet." He tossed over his shoulder sassily, and went back to whatever he was doing, which right now was going into a room, secluded. All by himself. It was the childrens reading room, which he happily picked up and set up a bit.
“Yet,” Thatcher repeated in a low, smooth tone as he watched the male leave. He looked back down at the genetics book in his hands. He’d have to look at that another time. He had a schedule today.
He continued working the day away,while Evelyn gave you the stink eye the whole time, not liking the looks of you one bit. Evan couldn't keep his eyes off you, sometimes smiling and giving a wave or a wink.
Thatcher would stick around for a while longer. He’d notice the looks from the male, but didn’t make efforts to approach him or speak up. He found the silence to be a lot more thoughtful. He’d had relations with targets before. It made it easier for him in a way. Getting attached was a dangerous thing to do, though.
He headed out of the door at around noon to go get lunch, happy that it was a really nice fall Saturday afternoon.
Thatcher had left by then and was out on a run with Nike. Running and other forms of exercising kept him in shape and helped to soothe the pain and tremors he got in his hands and back. He was jogging down the sidewalk, hair out of its braids and bun, now loose down the sides of his face. He was out of his usual formal clothing, wearing a t-shirt and a pair of basketball style shorts.
He wore a shirt that said 'let people kiss whoever the fuck they want' On it in big rainbow loopy letters. He wore dark blue jeans and again, converse, as he biked off to Subway and got himself a meatball sub.
Thatcher paused on the sidewalk with Nike to take a quick breather. He looked around him as he ran his scarred fingers through his hair, slicking it back a bit to get it out of his face.
He sat there in the window seat, eating away, offering a small wave at Thatcher. He was cute, especially in the sunlight. The way it hit his hair, and made his eyes sort of glow, but still mysterious like. He enjoyed a good mystery. Evan then pulled out his phone and began to play Temple Run.
Thatcher looked over around him at the buildings and noticed a figure waving. It as the target. He gave a wave in return before looking back down at Nike, murmuring to the dog. “Look at that, baby. Already got the pretty boy wrapped around my finger.”
He shrugged as he finished up his sandwich and went right back to work, until 3 where he left and went to his drama practice. They were doing Romeo And Juliet. He was annoyed about it,but at least he was a background character.
Thatcher was back at the organization. He rested on his bed, flexing his hand open and closed as a way to stimulate what working nerves he had left. They felt so stiff. It was decently uncomfortable and difficult to move at times.
He walked out of practice with a wide grin,went home,and ended up going lazer tagging with his family,enjoying himself the whole day. He went home riding in his family's mini van,singing away with the rest of the family to bad 90s songs like Jessies girl.
(Hi- sorry for being gone! I had to work all day yesterday and then this morning I had a college visit!)
Thatcher was outside of his apartment building, standing under an overhang with a cigarette between his lips, the embers burning and a bit of smoke coming from the end. It was a habit he had picked up. He could stop if he wanted to. He just didn't want to in the first place.
(Mood) Evan went home, and enjoyed his life like every other teen. But at night he liked to go for walks, it helped him think. So at oh, 9:30 he got on his dark blue hoodie, put in his air pods-which made him feel like a white douche bag- and headed off, soon lost in thought. On the other side of the block was a shifty apartment building that he always did a little half jog half walk past. The place always gave him the creeps and he never knew why.
Thatcher glanced around as he brushed his hair back from his face. He should really tie it up. He saw a figure jogging past and recognized him right away,
giving a whistle.
Evan ignored it and kept running, and then stopped when a driveway's motion activated light came on, sat down, and breathed a bit on the sidewalk, trying to catch his breath and calm his nerves before he kept going.
Thatcher saw the light flick on, a little grin forming on his lips. Just as he thought. It was that pretty boy. He just watched. He was sure Evan had heard. He would have wanted the boy to approach on his own. Just to prove a point.
Evan looked back at the creepy apartment building and saw you. He offered a small wave,got up,and kept walking. You looked busy and he liked playing hard to get. But he did swing his hips as he walked away to entice you.
(bump)