Why is it that I always started malfunctioning like an overheated desktop around people I am attracted to?
I slam the door behind me and take off into a sprint, putting in my best legwork from my marathon years back in school, knowing fully well that if he chose to pursue I had a good chance to be outrun.
The Hobbit-like home, his den was common in the neighbourhood. It was slowly melting away to give way to the frayed but warmer architecture of the city. I spot a lively street several metres away and break into a victory cheer. It was short-lived.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
I hear telltale signs of slippers slapping on the concrete. I panted trying to sneak a look behind me. I yelp as I skid on something, almost losing my footing.
What on earth is wrong with him? I did not poison him or steal anything of his! Is it because I didn't stick to heteronormative colour codes and chose his black mug? Does he want to use the premise of that bloody mug to pin me down?