Mr. Blue Eyes
-Mr. Blue Eyes POV
I watch the little redhead stare back at me with her silvery blue eyes. She was gorgeous. Her hair was up in a messy bun with a couple of loose curls falling around her face. I see she has used some of the money I have put in her case to buy herself some new clothes. She is unique, and her voice could mend a thousand souls.
What I don’t understand about her is why she is homeless living on the streets? Why wouldn’t she let anyone help her? That was a big mystery to me. No one wants to go hungry and live in old abandoned buildings, but she never allows it to show. There’s always a smile on her face, and she is always so loving to other people.
I feel the need to follow her everywhere she goes to keep her safe. I walk behind her, hiding in the shadows, to the place she feels the safest the last few nights. To make sure she makes it there. I know what the creeps in this city are capable of, and I will not let any of them get their hands on her. My need to protect her grows stronger every day. I have no idea what has come over me, but I feel a strong pull like I’m an addict, and she is my heroin. I need one more hit. Just one minor hit each day to keep my mind from wondering why the hell she won’t let anyone help her.
Like she is the only woman in the world that I crave. And she refuses my help, which only makes me crave her all the more. I mean, I haven’t even spoken to this woman, and I would already go to the ends of the earth to protect her. I have it so bad, and I’m starting to feel like a real-life stalker at this point. I can’t help myself. I need to know more, and I need to know what makes her tick. What makes her strive to be so good and so innocent. Why is she so good when life has treated her so shitty?
I’ve been staring at her for a good 10 minutes. She is starting to walk to me; what do I do? I run in the opposite direction. I’m not ready yet; what if she doesn’t want my help, and what if she thinks I pity her? Because I feel the opposite, I don’t pity her; I envy her. She is out here every day, living from building to building, singing her heart out to get where she wants to go in life.
I have helped a lot of kids achieve their goals, but they have never tried as hard as she does. They have never put their heart and soul on the line to reach their goals. Do they work hard? Yes, did they live on the streets? Yes. But not for as long as she did, and they always had someone. She has no one, and it breaks my fucking heart every day to watch her be alone.
Someone should be with her and tell her how beautiful and unique she is every damn day. To run her a hot bath and massage her body. Feel her next to them while she sleeps, cuddling her when she feels scared or alone. To have a shoulder to cry on when she’s having a rough day. I could be all of them things if she would let me.
As I watch her look, I know I need to put some distance between us. I don’t want to scare her off or make her think I’m some crazy stalker. But I need to make sure she safely makes it back to her building. I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t.
I walk in the shadows, following her to one of the spots she stays downtown quite often; I wish I could take her home and never let her leave. I could help make her dreams come true. Hell, I would let her still do it all by herself if she stayed with me so that I knew she would be safe. I don’t think she likes that very much, but I will ask her one day when I get the balls.
She has made it in her building safe and sound, and now I can go home and kick myself in the ass for running away from her again today. I don’t know why I’m so scared to talk to her. Maybe because I have so much money, and I don’t want her to judge me by that. I have worked hard to get where I am today. But she wouldn’t know that because I can’t seem to get the right words out to talk to her.
I wake up to my alarm buzzing in my ear. Well, today is the day I keep away from her. I can’t keep getting home late and being this tired for work. The kids need my full attention, they deserve that, and I have been distracted by following her everywhere she goes and trying to keep her safe.
Well, she has been doing this for a long I’m sure she will be fine without my help; besides, she doesn’t want it anyways. I tried to get the kids to invite her to come here without knowing it was me, but she refused and said she didn’t need any help.
I won’t stop trying to help her; I will do it without knowing it was me. If I have to call in a few favors, then I will. But I want her to thrive, and I know she can with a bit of push. I know if she finds out, she will hate me, but It’s a risk I’m willing to make. If I can get her off the streets, I am okay with her hating me. But I refuse to sit here and watch her sleep in a cold, abandoned building any longer.
She doesn’t deserve that; this girl deserves so much more; I wish she could see how wonderful she truly is. Her voice and how she holds herself as she sings her songs amaze me daily. I can tell she hasn’t gone to any music class or school because everything she does is so raw and beautiful. Girls with that much talent would have never gotten the chance to be homeless if they went to a school. Someone would have snatched her up and made all her dreams come true. But that’s not what she wants; she wants to be the reason why her dreams come true. She’s a fighter, you can tell; she wants to work from the bottom to reach the top. And I think that is what I admire the most about her.
I get it now, and maybe I won’t push until I know all the reasons why she won’t let anyone in. Perhaps we can be friends, and she will let me help her or be someone she can talk to whenever she needs. Just a friend in this big old city. What’s the harm in that?
I know one thing is for sure, though; under all that shyness and stubbornness, she has a fire in her, and I’m going to light it.