CHAPTER 2 - THE MAN IN BLACK (Part Two)

We were going through the shops one by one, one of us falling in love with a shoe, the other with an outfit, drowning in a mad shopping frenzy.

Hurray! We girls were enjoying shopping like crazy!

Every now and then, brunette, large man with dark brown eyes caught my eye. He was dressed in jet black, as befitting his mystery. He was kind of handsome, but the strange expression on his face made him a bit creepy, plus the fact that my eyes were catching him from somewhere... He appeared and disappeared time to time. My frustration slowly began to build up.

I tried to ignore him... Until he reappeared at the cafe where we sat after shopping.

My eyes cought on him again while I was looking around during the conversation Cemre and I were having. He was three tables ahead of us, and although he was hunched over, he couldn't hide because of his size. Every now and then he would check me out. His funny behavior caused my eyebrows to furrow and my mouth to spread across my cheeks. He was, how should I put it, scary but funny.

Cemre, caught up in the emotion of what she was telling, noticed my absurd expressions and interrupted.

"What's going on?" she said.

I leaned towards her softly and said in a whisper, "Try to look behind you without making it obvious! I think that guy in the back is following us."

She turned around quickly and said, "Where is he?" and I slapped her hand.

"Easy, girl! Why are you turning so fast? It's a good thing I told you not to make it obvious!" I scolded. When the dork started to laugh with a giggle, I gently let go of the laughter I was holding in. "Idiot, what are you laughing at? Look at him now, but this time in a subtle way."

This time Cemre slowly turned around and did a small inspection. I ignored the side where the man was and just looked at her.

When Cemre turned to me, she had a questioning expression on her face. She shook her head as 'No' and said, "There is no man, Asya ." she said.

"Are you sure? The man is sitting there. He even looks at our table from time to time."

When she quickly turned her head back once more and turned back to me, she only said, "No."

The echo of my heartbeat, which had accelerated with fear, reached my throat. When Cemre had a similar look of concern on her face, she said, "Are you okay, Asya? There really isn't anyone there."

When my eyes widened and I turned my gaze to the table of the man I claimed was sitting three rows behind us, I saw that he wasn't really there. As my heart beat faster, my chest tightened and the feeling of a panic attack came over me.

I don't know how I managed it in that state, but I said, "I was joking!" with a smile that I prayed inwardly not to be recognized as fake. I didn't want to scare Cemre with this nonsense that even I couldn't figure out. I found the solution to make fun of it as if it was one of the stupid pranks she always played on me.

"Damn it, Asya! What kind of a joke is that, for God's sake? You scared the hell out of me!" my Cemre squealed.

"Well, I had to take revenge for your stupid jokes. It was meant to be today." I said laughing. On the one hand, I was still looking at that table, trying not to let it be noticed.

We left the joking matter on the table and left the cafe. Cemre and I wandered through the shop windows bickering.

When we returned to the apartment building, Cemre rushed up the stairs and, without even stopping by her own apartment, burst through my door with the bags in her hand and collapsed in the middle of the living room.

"Time for fun!" she said, throwing the bags into the air.

When I had no choice but to follow her, the mini fashion show began. As I tried on the stuff we had bought over and over again, I was trying on a fun image for Cemre, but inwardly I was scared and treated myself like a lunatic. I was, so to speak, stalling and walking down imaginary catwalks, showing off the style I had created.

I was missing a funnel, and Cemre put it on my head.1

At the end of trying on clothes in front of the mirror, the young lady left me to go home. After closing the door after her, I thought, "Should I have asked her to stay with me?" Then I said to myself, "Go to bed, Asia, for God's sake!" and I got into my bed and reluctantly closed my eyes. I didn't let go of the stick, I kept it under the covers.

After an indeterminate passage of time, I had the idea that I had surrendered myself to sleep.

Even though one eye was open...