It was the car that first attracted my attention, an innocuous little gray hatchback that I passed by every day on the way to work. It wasn't so much the car, but a decal on the back window that intrigued me. Cute But Psycho. Okay. I wondered what that meant in this case. Then, one day, I saw her, short pink and orange blonde hair on a thin frame. Now my curiosity was peaked.
One day she bought a new car, and I happened to be driving by, so I stopped to ask her how she liked it. Rightfully suspicious, she had that, who the fuck are you and why the fuck do you want to know look about her, but she answered, about how it suited her. Cool enough.
Every day, I walk around the building and more than once I've seen her outside her condo. I look at her intently, and she notices, but that's about it. Once, she was sitting on the ledge outside her door, which was open, but she was talking to someone so I didn't approach even though she saw me looking at her.
The next time I saw anything, a week or two later, her door was open again. This time, I took my chance. Stepping across the street, I followed the sidewalk to her door, going over in my head what to say and do. Most of all, not to say something stupid like, "hello?" or "you left your door open..."
I gently opened the door enough to look in. She was at her kitchen counter evidently preparing lunch, her back to the door, wearing high-waisted denim cutoffs and a white crop tank. She turned around to look at me. She was thin, and her breasts were small as were her hips, even though she still had a feminine waist. She semi-snorted through her nostrils a little ha! sound, and said, "you, huh?" A slicing knife hung in her right hand. "Do you always just walk into strange women's homes?"
"No, just this one."
I took a step towards her. "Now, you can put that knife down, or you can hand it to me." She looked at me and grinned, held the knife up in front of herself, thoughtfully admiring it, and nodded her head approvingly. She put the knife down on the counter behind her, and leaned back against it, her hands on the counter besides her. She stared at me for a moment.
I stared back, looking her up and down.
"Take your clothes off," I told her.
She smirked and snorted that same little snort. "You do it. You're already undressing me with your eyes anyway," and shook her head.
I walked up to her until I was almost touching her; my belly inches from hers. I could feel her breath on my neck, and I'm sure she felt mine on her forehead. Our eyes were locked. Without changing my gaze, I reached down and unbuttoned her shorts. Her skin felt cool against the backs of my fingers. I unzipped her shorts and then pulled them down over her hips until they fell to the ground. I didn't look down to see what was underneath them.