[center][color=BC8F8F][i]Even my shadow has eyes, now.[/i][/color]

It was always staring. He was always staring, too; so it only made sense. No one else seemed to notice the little things. Right now he was staring at a couple from across the street. He had been staring at them for quite some time. They were pretty people that had made their way through Cinkaid Park, before the sun had set. They had stopped at a cafe, since, but he didn't risk following them in. 

 The girl wasn't his type, but certainly pretty. Hair dyed four different colors; short, but long enough to compensate for her somewhat boyish face. Her figure did most of the work, however, revealed by clothing purposefully tattered. The quiet young man had reminded himself more than once to avoid being hypnotized by the sway of her hips, or the music of her laughter.

 Her companion was a stark contrast. He seemed to be more straight-laced and straight-faced. If the quiet young man had to wager, he would have said that this boy was lucky. He was meek in posture, but managed to obtain some bizarre form of 'normal handsome' that the observer often liked to think that he, too, possessed. 

 [color=BC8F8F][i]They're always holding hands. Resonating. That's nice. I'm a little jealous.[/i][/color]

 The window gave him a clear view of their seat, its yellow light pouring onto the street to mingle with the glare vomited from countless signs. Lightbridge, at night, could be a hallucinogenic spray of chroma. Garish yellows and dispassionate pinks, noxious greens and perverse purples. Coupled with the smells of the city, it could all be a bit overwhelming.

The quiet young man paid it no mind, however, his focus only drifting from the two fleetingly. Besides, the signs and lights rarely changed. It was a curse of the city. Hardly anything changed, once it was properly established. Even frequenting the Park had become boring, once people had started avoiding him. Tonight, though, he felt certain that a tremendous change was going to take place.  

[color=BC8F8F][i]It's been a while. The feeling in the air's about right, though. Could just be me.[/i][/color]

  If he had to guess, they were University students. What year, he couldn't decipher. Their appearance, their carelessness, their joy spoke volumes. They were blissfully unaware of the small things. Like how the quiet young man had been following them for nearly two hours. Or his intent in doing so.

[color=BC8F8F][i]That's always the last thing they figure out. Even then, they don't get it right. The only moment they achieved anything in this life...was when they found refuge in one another. Pretty beautiful.[/i][/color]

 Some might consider such an idea ridiculous. He didn't really care, given that most of his time was spent alone and wrapped in scenarios not dissimilar from the one occurring now. Rare were the moments when his thoughts were shared, or even spoken aloud. Most of the time it was an exercise in monotony to simply exist. These were the instances that made a difference. He had convinced himself of that, somewhere along the line. 

[color=BC8F8F][i]Looks like they'll be leaving, soon enough. About time.[/i][/color][/center]