Chapter Text
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How possessive he is depends more or less on what exactly it is you're insecure about. He's still possessive as all hell regardless, you're his doll. You belong to him, you're perfect, what more do you need to think about? He just wants to lock you up in his dollhouse and keep you there forever. Unfortunately, humans are a bit too big for that, so a countryside manor will have to do.
A small, Victorian style manor in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by mountains, water and forest. Meticulously furnished, of course, with an astounding garden. It's his little secret, no one knows how or when he had it built, or that it was even built at all, let alone where he got the money for it. Mika found out due to a little snooping (stalking) but otherwise not a soul knows of its existence. Shu's personal little neverland.
Meeting shu was an accident, the first time anyways. You've always enjoyed window-shopping around old thrift stores and antique shops. One day you so happened to be looking around at some old vintage dolls in a local antique mall when you noticed another person enter the section. You stepped away so they could browse without you cramping up the aisle, gaze glued ahead as you walked to a different part of the shop. You didn't even notice the eyes on your back as you maneuvered your way out of the section.
The second time was maybe a month later, in a different shop. You had decided to flip through discs at a secondhand record store to kill some time, it was pretty empty in there. It was quiet, nice. That's one of the things you liked about box shops like this, they were never very busy and had a comfy feel to them.
You heard the little bell chime when the front door opened, but didn't really acknowledge it. As you continued to thumb around at old tapes and records, you passively noticed the tall man in the other corner of the store. He was staring at an old Columbia Gramophone the shop had on display. Couldn't blame him, it was pretty cool, and in nice shape too. The thing about gramophones is that they've got these big metal horns that reflect and amplify soundwaves coming from the record. They also reflect their surroundings though, at least if they're polished and well kept, like a mirror. It was well placed too, in the shop. Nice and high on a shelf in the front right corner, you could see the whole stores layout reflected in that shiny metal music player.
The entire rest of the time you were in that shop the man didn't seem to lift his eyes off the gramophone. While you walked around the store, fingering through cases on the shelves and boxes on the ground, you never once noticed him move from his spot. You kind of forgot the man was there after a minute or two, since it was so quiet.
The third time was a few weeks later at an old secondhand bookstore. You liked these kind of book shops because they usually had little cozy nook where you could read. Not to mention they were so much more affordable than buying books firsthand. You'd found an old copy of one of your favorite classics and decided to sit down and read for a while. How long did "a while" last for? By the time you found a good stopping point the sky was already a different shade of color outside, so maybe a few hours or so? Time flies when you're engrossed in a book I guess. You returned the book to its place on the shelf and left the shop, ready to go home and take a snooze before dinner. Not once did you notice the man 'reading' a few shelf lengths away from you.
The fourth time wasn't at an secondhand shop, but a crepe place. There's a lot of little in-the-wall food shops along streets the closer you get to the city. That sweet tooth of yours was out for blood, and crepes sounded so so good. It was a bit busier than you would have liked it, though. Every table in the shop was full, you had to scout out a table in the back that had just gotten cleared off and snag it before anyone else could sit down. But that just meant it had to be good, right? You ordered a cinnamon-honey-caramel crepe with a hot chocolate to dine in. Ding ding ding! We have a winner! You were in fact correct; it was very very good.
You were a few bites into your crepe when someone approached your little table in the back and asked if they could sit down with you. Without looking up from your food you nodded, you kind of felt guilty hogging a whole table to yourself when the place was clearly hopping. You heard the chair across from you pull out as the stranger sat down. After a minute or two you figured you should acknowledge the person in front of you. The man was tall, even sitting down you figured he had to be around 5'10 or so. He was nicely dressed, too, with a well steamed blouse and an expensive looking watch on his right wrist. There was something familiar in his presence, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Whatever, probably just your imagination. He had a ham and cheese sandwich croissant and a cup of tea.
He offered you a small smile when you glanced at him, forcing you to make eye contact for a second before you shot your gaze back down to your food. Did he just chuckle.? You swear you just heard him breath out a "cute," but when you peaked back up he had the teacup held up to his lips. Shake it off hun, it was probably just one of the couples from a nearby table, Now that you think about it though,, there were a lot of couples in this place.
The rest of your snack time went by in silence, at least from you and your company. The rest of the cafe was noisy as all hell with happy chatter and people. All that sound seemed to fade into the background though, you could feel the man's eyes on you. It wasn't a suffocating feeling, but you could certainly feel your face heating up a bit. It was just steam form the hot chocolate, yeah, that's why your face felt hot. Yeah
Whether it was intentional or not, you picked off the rest of your crepe very slowly, maybe because finishing it meant you'd have to acknowledge the person across from you again. Lucky for you, he decided to make the first move. As he got up from his seat he offered you another small smile, sharing eye contact with you one last time before walking away. You noticed there was a piece of paper folded underneath his empty teacup. You were pretty positive he left it for you, but it still took you a minute to work up the courage for you to actually open it. Inside was a pressed flower, a single vip ticket to a concert, and what looked like a phone number written on the inside flap.
It'd been an hour since you got home, but you were still thinking about the man from the crepe shop. The concert ticket and note sitting on your bedside table, tauntingly. What the hell was that? You had looked up the name on the ticket, "Valkryie" in wine red letters with a little gear on the end. Never hear of them before, then again you'd never really listened to idols. Was this some method of trying to recruit new fans or something? "This person's eating alone in a shop full of people on dates, easy target." Is that what he was thinking? But that wasn't it. There was something else in his eyes when he smiled at you, and that weird sense of familiarity that you couldn't shake. Then there was the pressed flower. You laid on your back in bed, holding the flower above you. How the hell did this guy know what your favorite flower was? There's no way that was a coincidence. Advertising ploy my ass, that flower wasn't even native to where you lived, let alone in season to bloom. You debated texting the number on the paper, raking it over in your head, over and over and over again. Why would a fancy handsome idol want anything to do with you?? You weren't that attractive, at least you didn't think so.
The concert was set for this weekend, maybe you'd go and decide afterwards what to do.
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˚ ✦ . . ˚ . * . ✦ ˚. ⋆. ✩ ˚ ⋆. ˚ ✦