Theodore - Unfavourable circumstances [Chapter 2]

I've been watching her for a week now. 

She was like an open book, her thoughts put on display for everyone to see. Except what went on in her head was far more complex than what met the eye. 

She had meticulously writen my favourite novel, "The Cries of a Songbird", only for it to be cast away from the spotlight. I had hoped that someday, I would meet her in person. 

Except this wasn't really an ideal situation to be in, no? Trying to gather enough information about your target so that you'd kill them in a way that would leave no traces. 

My client had slipped me another folded envelope just a week ago, wanting this girl dead. No questions asked had been my policy since I started this job. Ignorance is bliss, I'd say, as I continued doing what I was commanded to. But, why this particular quiet, aspiring writer? I'd been watching her for some time now, and was sure that she had no relations to anyone who could have the power to send an assassin to her doorstep, even if she looked at him the wrong way. 

It wouldn't hurt to do a little investigation on my part, would it? 

He offered quite a huge tip for her still heart, and a generous deadline of two months. 

Two months, I told myself, was more than enough time to know everything about my favourite author, before her predetermined death. 

Just pretend that you're in love with her. It's always worked. 

"Excuse me, are you Winifred, by any chance? "

I mustered up the usual sickly sweet smile I used for clients and targets alike as she stopped biting her nails, looking up at me as with a mixture of what-the-heck-who-are-you and clear awkwardness. It ached slightly to have to kill her after all this, but what had to be done, had to be done. 

Heck, I was sure she wasn't even aware that she'd been chewing on her nails for the past twenty minutes. 

Her brown eyes stared back at me, curious, wanting answers. 

She looked average, like any other girl I'd tried to match my personality to. Nothing about her stood out. 

Pretend to be in love with her. 

Perhaps, except those gold flecks in her eyes that twinkled with a certain glow under the setting sun, or maybe the way she cracked a cute-awkward half-smile at my attempt at making friends before her timed death. 

"Hi, I'm terribly sorry if we have, but have we met before? " Her voice carried a certain charming lilt, one that could easily be mistaken for the sound of a wind-chime in a soft autumn breeze. 

Pretend. 

"I'm afraid not. I've read your books, however. They're really well written. Mind if I sit? " Immediately, I could see that certain light in her eyes, something I couldn't fathom I'd ever give her from just a few words. That familiar sparkle that graced her, one she had when she had been in the midst of reading a good book, why, it was directed at me. 

"Of course! I hardly ever meet anyone who actually reads my books. " She fussed, and I swore by the radiant glow in her eyes that she'd jump up and push her seat towards me for me to sit on if I hadn't already conjured up a chair from the next table over. For the first time, I felt a certain indescribable happiness that reading was one of the many hobbies I had. 

Patience, I've only known her for a week, and she barely knew me at all. 

"You're concocting up your fourth book, I see. I'd love to get a preview before I purchase it from bookstores. Though, I don't suppose you already have it all planned out? It's only been a few days since the release of your last book. " In cases like these, I had no need to keep up a facade, especially since I'd been engrossed in her books far too many times to actually count. 

Laughter bubbled up from her throat, dancing on her lips. 

I felt a tug at my heartstrings. 

"Oh, heavens no. I'd have to be awfully good at writing. " She brushed my words off, the dismissive tone in her voice evident. 

"But you are. " Since when was I one to blurt my whole-hearted thoughts to my targets? 

Actually, now that I thought about it, when was the last time I've been so enthralled about anything? Five years? Ten?

That inquisitive fascination on her face wormed it's way into my heart as I forced down my thoughts, knowing this was more than a mere investigation, and not a hangout. 

This felt different. It was unlike when I managed to captivate the heart of a rich lady, or when I exchanged contacts with the target who thought that I was an angel sent from heaven to protect her. 

Her death had been an accident, and I definitely, surely had no part to play in it. 

"Thank you. " I snapped out of my own world at the sound of her melodic voice. "Most people think that being a writer will get me nowhere. I might even quit after my fourth book, if I manage to figure out what to write! " 

Anyone could see how well she wrote, so why was it that she was unable to see it herself? 

"Oh, don't say that. I'd miss you terribly. I'd be the first out of many who'd line up to buy your book the moment it comes out. " Her expression of unadulterated glee could have melted anyone's heart. 

Maybe I should have just killed her before trying to get to know her. 

I cursed silently as my phone vibrated a soft buzz. 

"Mind if I taks this? " I glanced at my phone from under the polished wooden table. Client 247, pushing myself up. The client who wanted her dead, what a coincidence.

"Please do. It'd be awful if I kept you from an important phone call. " She whispered. I could feel her beam from across the room. "Could you tell me your name, so I may know if I ever meet you again? "

Oh, if only I could tell her that I knew her favourite fruit, her favourite flower, and every single book she's borrowed with her card. 

"It's Ezekiel. " My heart was caught in my throat. I stole one of my aliases from one of my previous missions, even if I didn't have to. I quickly swallowed the thick bile that formed in my throat, forcing a smile and a curt nod. "I hope you have a lovely day. "

Why? Why did I lie to her? 

And why do I feel as though my chest was tightening every second? 

. 

. 

Was this how I was supposed to feel whenever I killed someone? 

"Ezekiel." She repeated quietly, a soft murmur, just as I had turned my back. I had to restrain every muscle in my body from just spilling everything to her all at once. My smile vanished as soon as I stepped out of the quaint coffee shop. 

"What do you want? "

"Jeez, Theodore, cold as always, I see. " I could hear his annoying voice hammer away at my ears. "Anyways, I've sent some files regarding my target, go pick it up. It was given by her mother. Don't worry, the mother doesn't know. Just, make it an accident, okay? I don't want anything tied back to you. You're good at that. "

As he hung up the phone, my gaze flickered back to my target from the large glass door, casually sipping her drink and stealing glances at me.