(Oh, Thatcher isn’t wiccan at all, he wouldn’t know anything about her besides the fact that she is the person that Evan lives with)
Thatcher looked on for a moment and put the car into drive, driving away from the large looking home. He’d have to try again. Then again, he could always transfer the job to another.
(I saw wiccan on his page? Or well Pagan ig)
She glared at the car and headed inside, to go take care of her children. Evan was trying to calm down.
(It’s pagan. Paganism is an umbrella term, and wicca is under that unbrella, but he falls more into the Neo-Paganism spectrum)
Thatcher eventually arrived at his section of headquarters in close to 25 minutes or so. He parked and got Nike out, heading into the building. He showed his identification card to the guards at the front of the building.
(Ahhh okay. So sorry, I spaced it off.) The rest of the night went by uneventful, and Evan woke up the next morning, got up, got dressed, ate breakfast with his family, and then biked off to work. He was working at the library by his house, as he opened it up, and began to shelve some books.
(It’s totally ok!!)
Thatcher strolled into the building after parking the car in the lot. Of course, he didn’t think he could just take Evan in broad daylight. He’d just simply scare the male a little bit. He walked inside and wondered around quietly glancing down the isles until he saw the male, and came close behind him. “Think you could help me find a certain book?” He spoke up in a low, very deep sounding voice that had a smooth edge to it.
"Hm? Sure. Whaddya want?" He played it cool, as he looked at you, acting like you were just another customer. 'It's the stalker…what does he want?' He figured this sort of thing would happen when he became a famous writer, but still. His quick thinking and acting skills made him good in panicky situations.
“Got any medical books?” Thatcher hummed, fidgeting with the gloves that covered his slightly shaking hands. His hard gaze clawed down the targets form. It was a shame he had to do this- the male was so pretty looking.
He noticed your hands and nodded. "Yeah,couple shelves down that way." He pointed and nodded,and then walked away,shaking his ass a bit.
Thatcher watched the way the target moved- what a vixen- for a moment before following after, his long legs making it a tad easy for him to keep up. “You should just show me. Never been to this library before. I think I’ll need some help,” he said, falling into step besides the male.
He shrugged and pushed his cart along over to the health books,which was more towards the back center of the library. He seemed a bit on edge. "All of them are over here in this corner." He then tries to walk away.
Thatcher followed close to the target, having a slightly amused little smirk on his lips. He set his hand on the cart, sharply stopping it from moving. “What’s the rush,hm? It’s not busy in here at all. Practically empty over here.”
"I like to have all my other additional tasks finished before the crowd moves in." He pulled it back, and backed away from you, turned around, and went back to where he was. Suddenly the library door swung open, and in bursted Evelyn's sister. "AN!" Evan stomped over and slapped her. "Shut up it's 9:30 in the fucking morning in a library!" "Mom sent me here to make sure you stay alive so I'm chilling here today." "Sweet because he's here." He said in a low voice, and Evelyn handed me her pepper spray. "Here. I'm gonna go find some comic books." He clipped it onto his car keys, which were clipped onto his satchel, and kept working.
Thatcher released the cart and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he watched the girl come in. They looked similar. Siblings, he would have guessed. He watched her walk away, fiddling with one of his little braids. “Family come in here often?” He asked, staying at what could be a reaching distance for him away from the target.
"Yeah. Well I've got 16 siblings, who knows when someone will pop in. That's my twin." He backed away a bit. He thought the braids were ugly, and the man bun only made it worse.
Thatcher chuckled a tad at the words. “16, huh? That’s a good amount.” He hadn’t had any siblings. He had been an only child, but he had liked it. It had been easier that way for him. He tilted his head a bit, eyes narrowing in the slightest as he looked off in the direction of where the girl had gone. “Wonder if she’s as friendly as you are.”
He laughed and walked away. "Good one." He shook his head, and went towards the entrance, waking up the computers making sure they all were up and running. His sister eyed you, and she went over and said clearly. "Man he sure is ugly." Evan shrugged. "He was cute yesterday when his hair was down. The braids and man bun look cringy." His sister looked confused. "Are you seriously hitting on your stalker?" "You've done worse." "…True."
Thatcher gave a little smirk and turned on his heel to stride over to where he was told the medical books were. He slipped behind the shelves and clicked his tongue softly. He trailed his slightly shaking fingers over the bindings of the books, eyes glancing over the titles.
She eyed him. "Definitely looks like a stalker." "Evelyn go back to your yaio and let me work." She huffed and walked off as he sat down on a chair, pulled out a notebook, and began to write.
Thatcher plucked a book from the shelf as he listened to the twins talk nearby. He opened the book up and skimmed it over. Something about neurology. Not what he would have been interested in. He had a soft spot for Genetics.
Evan walked over. "Ignore my sister. She's rude. And crazy." He shrugged and put away some genetic books. "Sorry about her. Ya get pretty used to it though. Even grow to like it." He smiled softly. "Though…and I don't mean to be rude. But were you following me yesterday? Your dog attacked me, you nearly gave me a heart attack from biking so much?" He asked, hand already reaching down to the pepper spray, slowly, from behind the cart.
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.
