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My hand fishing into the coat pocket of his tweed jacket.
It’s not a handkerchief after all.
I recognize the pair of my missing underwear instantly, except these look way dirtier than when I put them in the wash basket.
My mind kinda freezes for a second, not wanting to make the connection but suddenly afraid all over again.
Vincent grips my wrist hard, yanking the panties from my hand as if I've uncovered his deepest darkest secret.
And in a way, I know I have.
I think I’ve just found who’s been stalking me.
And to be honest, I’m not exactly sure how that makes me feel.
Chapter 11
Vincent
She knows.
In a single moment of recognition she joins the dots.
My reflex is to snatch those panties away from her. They really have been glued to my nose for days now. It’s like someone taking a pacifier from an infant… My security blanket.
My Violet…
But I’ve got Violet, she’s right here. If she stays that is. Most girls would’ve run by now.
Having gotten so used to using her panties as a replacement for her, it’s only natural I feel a little loss if she won't let me keep ‘em. But worse than all of that, I feel like such an idiot.
A grown man following a girl half my age, sniffing and yanking off into her dirty underwear…
But it’s no use, even the sight of them let alone who they represent is enough to see me hard as stone in seconds, already wanting to hold them to my face again.
But I focus on Violet. Her feelings must be all over the place, and I still have to explain that it's not only me who's been stalking her.
“You have an actual stalker though. Apart from me!” I blurt out. Her eyes shifting slowly but repeatedly from her panties to me. The look of a girl who’s maybe found out the one thing wrong with the best looking car in the lot, but only after she's ridden too far and voided the warranty.
“These were in my wash basket,” Violet clips, sounding like she's about to solve the crime of the century, “How did you get them unless you-?”
“Violet…” I caution her calmly. Knowing whatever I say now is make or break. If I goof this now she'll leave and if she takes those fucking panties with her I’ll just lose the will to live.
“I was watching you on laundry night. I noticed them drop so I picked them up…” I explain.
“Laundry night?” She exclaims, widening her eyes and shaking her head slowly from side to side. “I never knew I even had a routine outside of classes…”
It feels like my goose is cooked, but there’s more to Violet than meets the eye. I catch her faint smile that she's been trying to hide spill out into her features before she holds her panties out to my face, teasing me with them.
And it’s working.
She starts to giggle and make little cooing sounds, making me feel like a fucking moron as well as a psycho for carrying them around.
But what she doesn't do is mind that I kept them, least of all what she must know I was also doing with them.
“And you've had these for how long now?” She asks, doing some mental math with mock drama for effect. Looking like she's enjoying watching me squirm for a change. My fingers creep out towards hers. I know I’m not ready to let them go. Not just yet…
“About a week.” I confess, wondering why she hasn't bolted from the room yet, shrieking that she's trapped in the house with her stalker. And after what feels like an eternity, she seems to make her mind up.
