【A L V I N】

The tray had been sitting in my kitchen for quite a while, because I'd completely forgotten to return it. I had even forgotten to thank him for the muffins and to apologize for attempting to give him burnt muffins, however, I was so busy with work and trying to get a hold of pest control that I ended up forgetting. 

However, when it was the weekend, it finally came back to me whilst I was seated on my couch watching an hour long compilation of Peppa Pig. Only a second or two after I had remembered, I grabbed the tray and raced to his place with it in hand. I was about to make my way onto the porch and ring the doorbell, when I heard a familiar voice coming from the area behind his house. 

It was him - and he sounded pissed. 

Normally, curiosity would have gotten the best of me and I would have eavesdropped or something, because I'm definitely not a resident expert on virtue. However, this sounded quite serious so I left the tray at the porch and turned around to return back home. After having done so, I made my way into the living room to shut the blinds to my window - and now I could see him clearly. 

He had his back pressed against the wall of the side of his house, one of his hands aided in holding his phone up to his ear and the other hand was tugging on his hair, an action that reflected his frustration and anger. I don't know why I didn't look away. I couldn't hear a single word he was saying, and in all honesty, I was glad I couldn't. He looked so incredibly hurt yet furious at the same time, it was scary. 

I couldn't find it in me to tear my gaze away from him - so I continued looking. After a few minutes had passed by, he pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up. Then, he placed his palm against his forehead out of tension before letting out a heavy breath. Following that, he looked over at my window. 

Then, our eyes met. 

Once again I was brought back to the time when he'd caught me staring at him when he was in his bedroom. His reaction was something I'd never be able to get out of my mind. Quickly, I tried to play it off and pretended like I was cleaning the window with a cloth I'd randomly grabbed from the table nearby. 

I assumed he'd look away or scowl or at least give me a look of distaste or disappointment, but he just continued staring at me with a lost look on his face. Not the kind of lost which depicts how far a person has drifted from reality and the aching sensation they're feeling to just get back a morsel of control over their being once again. It was the kind of lost where you could no longer tell how much they ached. You could no longer tell how ruined they were or what was going through their mind. It was the kind of lost which hits you all at once, like a wave. It was the kind of lost which would stick with you for as long as you'd live - till the very moment that you took your last breath. 

It was the kind of lost that stirred something in me. Seeing him like that made me curious. I knew it was none of my business, but I couldn't help but wonder - how much did this man have to go through to reach this point in his life? Anyone could tell he was lost - but nobody could tell what the reason behind his plight was, and I found myself yearning for the answer. 

How was it that every single time I was around him he seemed so cheerful and like nothing could ever do him wrong or alter his mood but when he was alone he looked so.. broken? And why was I suddenly so curious? 

I didn't notice that amidst my nosy thoughts, my eyes had ended up meeting his - and now we were engaged in an intense sort of staring contest almost. He tilted his head ever so slightly and furrowed his eyebrows at me as if to ask; 'What are you looking at?'

I simply shook my head in a state of panic and set the cloth aside before shooting him an embarrassed smile and reaching for the blinds. No sooner had I done so than he pushed away from the wall he'd initially been leaning against - and as I pulled down the blinds, he turned around and walked back into his home, not bothering to steal a second glance.

However, one thing remained stolen for sure - and that was my curiosity. He had it now, and there was no going back. A chance encounter was all it took for me to want to be introduced to his world.

And then it became clear what he had lost - other than his touch with reality, what little control he had over the life he was leading and his blooming addictions on the side. Himself. He had lost himself.

I was aware of the fact that we had never even crossed paths in the first three years we had been living beside each other - and now because of a little pest problem, I'd been stolen from the world I'd been living in and placed into his. 

And, for whatever reason there was, I wanted to help him find himself.

-

OKAY listen, i know how it looks but i promise you this story isn't sad or anything. just keep reading and you'll eventually find out what's up with lucien (bet you won't see it coming >:))