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Pikachu in the City
The city doesn’t deserve me. All this glass and steel, these towering monuments to ambition that nobody’s around to appreciate right now, and I’m walking through the middle of it like I own the place. Midday sun cuts down hard, throwing sharp shadows across the pavement, turning every surface into something that either blinds you or swallows you whole. Not a single soul on this street to witness it except you.
I know you’re there. I’ve known since I stepped out. That little tingle at the back of my neck, that feeling like someone’s eyes are tracing the line of my shoulders, the curve of my hips. You’re watching. You’re always watching. And the funniest part is you think you’re being subtle about it.
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