Something visceral convinced my legs to move, to go after this girl who I don’t know. It wasn’t a creepy stalker kind of thing. But more of a she just got here and might get lost thing. A strange rush of protectiveness washed over me when I saw her leave the building and venture out into the world. I already got her to hate me, and that alone might be all the protection she needs, but what if something else happens? Why is my brain telling me it’s my responsibility?
If I just confirm she makes it to wherever she’s going, maybe that will be enough.
I keep a natural pace while maintaining some distance between us, completely walking in the direction away from where I really should be going. I glance down at my watch, verifying that my little detour won’t set me back too much.
The girl’s chocolate brown hair falls down her mid-back, gently swaying with each step she takes. Her arms are crossed over her chest like she might be cold. Or that she’s using it as some kind of barrier from the outside world.
That train of thought makes my protective urges rise even more. I don’t know her name, and yet I have an innate need to shield her from any danger.
What the fuck is wrong with me?