He's out at night, again.
Eggs over easy, and a soda, and this time he gets fries as well. Who eats eggs and french fries? Him, apparently.
Between bites, he rests his head against the glass. He's still got a good view of the box, and of the stranger standing by it.
...maybe whatever drew him to the box is drawing other people to it.
...that's kind of a creepy thought, actually.
...he tries to turn his attention back to the food.
He finds his eyes straying to the box, again, though. Catches whoever's skulking around it craning their neck, to look around.
Like they can tell they're being watched, somehow.
No, he's being paranoid. He rubs his eyes and stares at his plate.
Takes another bite of food.
No reason to look again.
No reason for his hands to be trembling like they are.
He jumps, takes in a breath, looks away.
Okay they're not looking straight at him any more. Probably it was just a. Weird coincidence.
Bite of eggs.
Just eat, and don't keep looking out the window at the person your brain decided to be paranoid about, and don't be going crazy, Bryce.
The next time he looks, the stranger's gone.
He doesn't feel like leaving the diner right now, though.
He orders another plate of fries, and eats them, one by one, slowly, hoping the sun's gonna come up soon.
"I expect I shall, thank you."
He's shaken awake.
He rubs his eyes. "Sorry." Scrounges a few bills out of his wallet and tosses them on the table; heads out.
It's not day yet, but the sky is turning paler blue, and orange on the horizon. No sign of the stranger who was lurking around the alleyway last night.
What the fuck is he doing, and why does he suddenly feel on the verge of tears.