treasure, c

Was this all right?

Aden hesitated, hanging over the edge of a certain somebody’s roof, feet dangling over the door leading to the balcony. He could have been chuckling to himself if he didn’t have to keep under the veil of darkness that the night brought him.

She had stood there for quite a while, staring up at the stars. He could only make out the back of her head. Occasionally, her shoulders would slump, or her posture would stiffen before relaxing again. The subtle changes in her disposition held Aden’s unhealthy interest.

He was surprised at himself as well. Spying on a girl in the middle of the night—anybody else would call him a stalker, if they didn’t already know about his thieving ways. Then he’d be labeled as both a thief and a pervert.

He told himself over and over again that he was just here to snoop around her room once she went back to sleep, and that he was just keeping watch, but there was something wrong with that explanation, too. Still, it was the best he could come up with. Or rather, convince himself with. There was a certain aspect of her that pulled Aden to the girl. She was just so . . . interesting.

The girl straightened, and Aden froze. She hadn’t noticed him as she began to walk back to the doors leading inside, escaping the warm summer breeze for the comfort of a bed. She mumbled to herself, and, against all logical judgment and rationality, he spoke.

“Who’s the lucky lad?” he said, hanging upside down. His face was the only thing separating her and the cool glass of the balcony door.

The thief hung still as Emilia’s shrieked, cutting through the eerie silence of the night. Leaves rustled somewhere below them, and the breeze carried the scream away until it was but a distant echo.

He froze when the father spoke up to his daughter, but let out a quiet sigh of relief when the girl thought up an excuse on the fly. However, he only relaxed when his ears detected the soft click of the windows closing shut.

Aden jumped down from the edge of the roof, as nimble as a panther, and a cheeky grin spread across his face.

“That was great,” he said, dusting himself off in a theatric display. He sauntered over to the girl, light-hearted teasing coalescing with shameless seduction and peppered onto his tone as he shoved a hand into the warmth of his pocket. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

He hummed, looking her in the eye with an arched brow, the moon lighting up the features of his face. “I’m terribly curious as to the identity of the man plaguing this pretty young lady’s thoughts.”