The thudding of rain and a quiet bubbling cluttered the kitchen as Orla hunched over her kettle. She felt safe for the first time in a while, assuming the constant rain would stop potential strangers from peering in her windows. It was a baseless fear that Orla had developed over the past few months. Paranoid that she was being watched wherever she went. It had festered into an acute agoraphobia, and her friends had insisted she seek therapy. Orla had considered it; she even attended an intake session - but still, in the small and comfortable office, she could not escape the feeling of being perceived.
The kettle switched off, and the boiling quickly stopped as the water had finished heating. Orla poured the hot liquid into her mug of chamomile. She had stocked up on chamomile her last time at the store as the internet recommended the tea for calming anxiety and inducing sleep. It was useless, but it was better than nothing. Thunder boomed overhead, and Orla flinched, sloshing tea onto the counter before making her way to the living room.
Orla's living room was small and fixated around the fireplace. At one time, she'd had a small television on the mantle, but she had tossed it after the eyes of the newscaster began looking back into her. Orla placed the cup on her coffee table, sliding a coaster towards herself, and settled on the couch, tucking in her legs.
THUD
A sudden pounding made Orla jump and wrap her arms around herself. Squeezing her eyes tight she told herself it was just the thunder.
THUD THUD THUD
Covered her face in her hands begging the sound to stop.
"Is someone home? I'm so sorry to bother you, but my car has broken down and I was wondering if I could borrow a phone!" Cried a voice from outside.
The sound of rain made it difficult to hear, but Orla couldn't deny that someone was begging for help at her door. Tears pricked at her eyes - as scared as she was, she couldn't leave someone stranded in a thunderstorm.
Orla stood and made her way over to the door, unlatching the lock and opening the door a crack. A man of average size stood on her doorstep, barely taller than herself. He wore glasses, and his brown hair clung to his forehead, soaked in rain.
I could probably take him in a fight
. Orla opened the door further, having decided he was not an immediate threat to her safety.
"Are you alright?" Orla asked, more as a formality than from any real concern. Her main fear surrounded the fact that someone was at her home.
"I'm ok! But my car broke down and I was really hoping I could borrow a phone to call a repair service."
Orla nodded and stepped aside, "Please, come in! I'm so sorry about your car - of course you can use my phone."
Orla may be paranoid, but she was nothing if not hospitable. Before her fears had begun, she had always been kind and outgoing. Under different circumstances, she never would have hesitated.
"Thank you so much, I'm Aspen by the way. I promise I'll be out of your hair as soon as possible!" The man stepped inside and wiped his boots on the doormat.
Orla grabbed her cellphone and brought it over to Aspen, opening the phone. Aspen began to dial a number, but the automated voice on the other end informed him that the call could not be completed.
His brow furrowed, and he handed the phone to Orla, "Am I doing this wrong? I'm sorry, I have a different kind of cellphone, so I'm not familiar with the layout."
Orla shook her head and examined the phone, "There's no service - it must be because of the storm. Is your phone dead? What kind of charger does it take?"
Aspen shook his head, "I left it at work. Stupid, I know, but that's where I was going. I was heading back to the office to try and grab it so that I wouldn't be without it this weekend."
Aspen studied Orla's face for a moment, his gaze eerily familiar. Orla didn't meet his eyes - she couldn't do that anymore; the weight of more eyes on her was unbearable.
"I- I'm really sorry. You aren't comfortable with me here, I can tell. Look, how about I wait out the storm in my car, and maybe once it passes, if you get service, you can come get me?"
"No!" Orla quickly protested, "That's not safe. I'm just — I get nervous around strangers. Please, stay here until the storm passes."
A smirk flashed across Aspen's face, unnoticed by Orla who had not been able to look at the man head on.
"That's very kind of you, but I really don't want to impose."
"Please, it's no imposition. I'll make you some tea- do you like chamomile?"
"If you insist. I love chamomile, I find it very calming."
Orla cracked a small smile and glanced briefly at the man. His hair now pushed back, revealed an admittedly handsome face. A kind smile and a straight and broad nose. Her eyes glanced up at his eyes for a moment: soft, brown, normal. Did those eyes pose a threat to her? She couldn't tell, but the longer he stayed, the less terrified she felt.
Orla extended her hand, "Give me your coat - I'll hang it up. Please make yourself comfortable. I'm sorry there isn't much in the way of entertainment, but I have a portable DVD player stashed somewhere here if you get bored."
Aspen shrugged off his coat and passed it to Orla, removing his boots and placing them on the mat next to Orla's. He moved to the couch and sat stiffly, almost terrified to sink into the cushions. His eyes moved to Orla in the kitchen and watched as she filled the kettle with water. Orla shivered slightly and glanced at the man on her couch. With the visual confirmation that the eyes on her were his, she relaxed. In fact, Orla felt less watched than she had in months. She felt no hidden eyes, no strangers across the street. Even with Aspen's frozen stare, she felt comfortable. These eyes were invited. Well, perhaps not invited... but they were not hidden. Being watched by a guest in one's home certainly felt more consensual to Orla than the disembodied eyes that had been following her.
"Do you take anything in your tea?" Orla asked.
"I would love some honey if you have any."
Orla nodded and carefully carried the mug over to the living room. Aspen slid a coaster over, and Orla placed the mug in front of him.
"Thank you very much, ma'am."
Orla chuckled and shook her head, "Please just call me Orla."
"So that's your name!
Orla
," Aspen grinned.
"I can't believe I hadn't told you my name! I'm so sorry! It's very brave of you to come into someone's home without knowing their name."
"I trust you,
Orla
."
Something about the way that Aspen spoke her name felt well-practiced. Like a melody he had sung to himself day and night but never before performed. Orla didn't know if that was fate, a romantic attraction, or something sinister. She decided to ignore the thought altogether, however, and refused to feed into any paranoia or romantic delusions.
"Your family must be worried sick about you," Orla said, though the question hidden within was her main concern.
"Oh no, I don't have a family to worry about me"
"Oh...so you're all alone then?"
"There's no one waiting for me at home if that's what you're asking," Aspen smirked.
Orla's face flushed and she waved her hands frantically, "No! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply -"
"It's alright, Orla. I'm just teasing. I know you're not that kind of girl."
"You seem awfully sure about me, for a stranger."
Aspen's smile widened and his head cocked to the side, "I feel like I've known you forever."
Orla's heart jumped to her chest and her eyes flicked to her phone, wondering if the service was still down. Aspen's smile falters and he straightens back up, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I only meant that I am comfortable around you."
"Oh, please! Don't apologize - I'm just a jumpy person."
Aspen's round eyes compelled Orla to continue as he sat, attentive and waiting for her to tell him more about herself
"I haven't always been. It started a few months ago- it just feels like someone is always watching me. You being here is actually the first time I haven't felt hidden eyes watching my every move."
"That sounds horrible -- have you told anyone? If I were your friend, I wouldn't leave alone for one minute!"
Orla shook her head, "Well, I have, but it's just in my head."
"How do you know?" Aspen asks, his voice soft and gravely, "How do you know there
isn't
someone following you? Watching your every move - studying - waiting until the right moment to pounce."
Orla's eyes widened, and she glanced again at her phone, "I wonder if the service is back up," she said. Her voice quivered, and her hand moved towards the table where the phone rested. Aspen jutted forward, grabbing her hand. Orla's gaze snapped up and found Aspen's eyes boring into hers with his
