I was walking home with a splitting headache. I knew I should have brought some kind of snack with me, or even a drink. That was always my mistake. I only ever got headaches when I didn't eat enough. Or rather, when I didn't eat both breakfast and lunch. Which was very stupid of me.

I got to the intersection that was a block away from my apartment. While I waited for the light to change, I got an odd feeling that someone was following me. I was never paranoid. I had full confidence in myself and knew I could handle anything. But this was the first time I ever felt like something bad was headed my way. I suddenly wished I had the freedom to call Nick. I hadn't thought about needing Nick in three years.

My hand was already in my pocket. I slid my keys through my fingers. My hidden Wolverine claws. Using only my eyes, I look around. As crazy as it was to be standing with four other people, waiting for the light. It wasn't any of them I felt weird about. There was someone else watching me.

The light changed and I walked with purpose. Walking with purpose and head held high was the only way to walk in a busy city. I still felt like someone was watching me. Maybe even following me. My phone was in my bag, which was a backpack-purse. It would be a mistake to try and get anything out of my bag. My best bet was to keeping moving. I could flip out once I got home.

As I turned to my left, direction of my apartment complex, I used my peripheral vision to see if there's an extra body. The four people that had been crossing with me were all walking in the opposite direction. No one else. Which had me starting to think I was paranoid for no reason. I never had reason to be paranoid before. So why now?

"Emmy?"

I looked forward and came face to face with Matt.

"Hi," I said, hoping to convey the confident art student I thought I'd been back in class.

"Are you okay?" he asked; I could see his eyes glancing all around and behind me. "Want me to walk you home?"

He extended a hand towards me. His eyes were still looking at anything, but me. There was someone following me. His caution seemed to confirm it.

"That would be great," I replied, slipping my free hand into his. It was weird. There was a silently crackling in the air. I knew it was my imagination.

"I'm just this way," I went on, pointing towards the coming apartment building.

"We'll circle the block first," Matt whispered as he leaned down to my ear.

I nodded and was afraid to speak. But he created conversation and I immediately safer. As we were passing the front door to my building, I was glad when Matt decided to place his arm around my shoulders. The paranoia was leaving.

Ten minutes later, Matt led me to the door of my building. His smile was shy. It was so sweet.

"Thank you," I said, bringing out my keys. "That's the first time I've ever been freaked out like that."

"You're welcome," Matt replied; his breath came out in a foggy cloud. It was getting cold. And I didn't know how far he was going.

"Would you like to come inside and get warm?" I asked, pointing to the door. "Something hot to drink? Coffee, tea? Cocoa?"

Matt hesitated, and I almost thought he might decline my offer. But then he looked at his watch and nodded.

"That would be awesome, thanks," he said. And I was quick to get us inside.

I lived on the ground floor, last apartment on the left of a building known as The Carter building. If I had lived on the top floor, I might've joked about being a scientist. I had definitely seen too many of the Fantastic Four movies.

I unlocked the door with the number 6 on it. And once we were both inside, I told Matt to get comfortable.

"It's not much," I said, moving to clean up the books and papers I left on the table. "Sorry about the mess."

"Free expression," he said, waving it off. "I've seen worse."

I smiled and shoved the books onto an empty part of the huge bookshelves I had in the living room. My living room was my office. I did everything here. Except sleep. I slept in my room.

"That's quite the collection," Matt approached my bookshelves and chuckled at all the titles. "How many books are here? Two hundred?"

"500," I corrected softly. "And believe it or not, I didn't buy all of them. Most were gifts or prizes from a newsletter giveaway. Or sent to me by publishers."

"Let me guess. You're a book blogger."

"More like a book enthusiast. I haven't been blogging in a long time."

Not wanting to go into how I wasn't blogging anymore, I changed the subject. I brought back up my offer for a hot drink. Matt said he would take a tea. When I asked what kind he liked, he said something soothing. Chamomile. That was always my first choice.

"There really was someone following me, huh?" I asked while waiting for the water to boil. "I've never felt that way before. Paranoid. How did you end up in this part of town?"

"I was kind of wandering around," Matt replied, shrugging. "I do that when I need to think and clear my head. And yes, I saw some suspicious looking dude coming out of the bushes on the sidewalk you'd been walking away from."

I nodded; the kettle whistled and I went to pour the water into the two mugs. My favorite mugs. Both quoting amazing lines from my favorite book. Jane Eyre. I had them made specifically for me. I wasn't living at home anymore. My mugs were always breaking or losing a handle. No one really knew how those events occured, but my family stopped keeping mugs.

"Wow," I said, after handing Matt his tea. "My headache is gone. Huh. I completely forgot about it."

I sat on the couch and blew in my tea. Matt was watching me with the most curious expression. It wasn't like the passion I'd seen earlier in class. This was genuine amusement, and he was definitely curious.

"I'm an odd one," I announced, "Just getting that out there. I talk to myself. I talk to my dogs. Oh! I forgot my dogs. You don't mind, do you? I need to let them in from the back."

He smiled and shook his head. "Not at all. I love dogs."

I returned the smile as I set my mug on a coaster. And then I was running to the back door that led to my mini paradise. Bella, my German shepherd-Corgi mix, was already barking with excitement when I slid the door open. And Millie, my Yorkie, was already on her way to her favorite spot. The couch. Right where Matt was sitting. I should've warned him.

I closed the door and followed after my wild crew. I laughed when I saw Millie had climbed into Matt's lap. He was talking to her and scratching behind her ear. That was her weakness. But she hated new people.

"She doesn't usually like my guests," I said, sitting down with Bella on my feet. "And this one is loud enough for the both of them."

I scratched Bella's head and she panted in delight.

"I'm kind of a dog whisperer," Matt explained with a throaty chuckle, his gaze never looking away from my doggie in his lap. "It's very hard for dogs not to like me."

It's very hard for me not to like you either, I thought to myself.