Hunted
After a brief explanation of what the "green paper" was, Adrian borrowed three Benjamins to go shopping with. Lyra agreed wholeheartedly, hooking her arm around his as they rode the elevator down. He awkwardly snaked his arm out from her reach. They arrived at the outdoor shopping center ten minutes later.
They walked, side by side but not quite together, made apparent by how far they were standing apart. Not far enough to be just two strangers walking in the same direction to the lingerie section of the store. Just close enough to designate them as friends, or perhaps acquaintances, nothing more. Adrian was acutely aware of this, and he felt that it was some sort of silent agreement made between two people to respect each others' personal space. So he kept his distance, always compensating when Lyra would slowly start to drift closer to him.
Lyra was like a kid at a candy store, running back and forth and pressing her nose up against windows, practically bouncing all over the place.
"There's so many of them!" Lyra exclaimed.
He wasn't sure what she meant. "Stores?"
"And people!"
He cleared his throat. "So first thing's first, I guess."
"Oh, right," Lyra said. "Clothes. So where do you go to get your clothes?"
Adrian gave a small laugh. "J.C. Penney's and Kohl's. What kind of clothes do you like?"
"I dunno," she said with a shrug. "I don't remember."
"Right," he sighed. "Well, we've got plenty of cash. We could go for designer clothing."
Lyra shook her head.
"So some shirts and jeans, then?"
She shrugged. "How about you pick?" she asked. The way she said it had a bit of a teasing lilt to her voice.
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Adrian said nervously.
"You've got a great sense of fashion!" Lyra grinned. "I think."
The likelihood of him using her as his personal Barbie doll to get her to wear skimpy, revealing clothing was increasing. It didn't help that she wasn't a big fan of wearing clothes and was a huge tease.
She suddenly grabbed his hand, leading Adrian forward with a hop, skip, and jump. It would have been rude to yank away. He stared from behind, trailing slightly behind her. She truly was a touchy-feely sort of person, especially with her hands.
They walked onward, their joined hands swinging back and forth. Or rather, Lyra's hand swung back and forth, and his hung limply by his side. Already his palms were beginning to sweat. Her hands were soft and smooth and warm. Her nails were trimmed and polished and her fingers were long and slender. His were a bit more bony, a bit more rough. It was strange, holding hands.
He liked it.
Just to see, he would experimentally squeeze her hand and would be surprised that she would respond and squeeze back. At first it had just been cupped palms, nothing major. It wasn't until Lyra suddenly interlaced her fingers between his then his heart begin to beat faster in his chest. The tips of her fingers would run across his knuckles, feeling the calluses of his hand with her thumb.
Adrian turned his head and caught himself staring. Lyra beamed, a big grin stretching from ear to ear. For some reason her smiling made him want to smile.
He held open the door (what a gentleman), and they entered the air-conditioned department store. Tinny lounge music played over the PA system.
"Guess we should get the essentials," he said aloud, looking at Lyra.
She nodded. "So where would that be?"
"That way," he said, pointing at a sign that read: INTIMATES.
Clearly forbidden territory.
Lyra skipped a few steps before turning around. "Aren't you coming?"
He choked back a laugh, rubbing his neck. "I'm a guy, Lyra, I-I can't be over there."
"Oh, come on, it won't be so bad," Lyra giggled, dragging him over, dropping her tone and stretching out the last word. "You'll have me as an excuse!"
Anyone who would have happened to pass by would have heard a loud peal of laughter from the changing rooms. A bang, the rattling of doors. Two pairs of feet tangling and untangling.
"Lyra!" Adrian hissed, blushing furiously as he grappled with her in the cramped changing room.
The squirming girl laughed as Adrian's fingers tickled her bare back as he struggled with trying to solve the Rubik's Cube known as the ever so elusive bra clasp.
"I can't help it, it tickles!"
Yes, indeed, it had been quite the conversation with the plump store employee trying to explain that his "girlfriend" needed a better fitting bra and some panties. And so, Lyra had been appropriately fitted with one that accentuated her figure. Of course, he had the good fortune to be the very one to assist her in putting one on. Somewhere along the way, they picked up various articles of clothing, which happened to include a sea green two-piece bikini that would be easier to describe as a piece of clothing meant to cover up as little as possible. Oh, and they grabbed some flip-flops for the beach.
The bottoms were easy enough. The hard part was helping an amnesiac who could barely remember her name put on a bra while trying not to cop a feel for her boobs (which felt very firm, by the way).
"There."
Lyra pushed her breasts up and adjusted it, leaning forward. "How's this?"
He wanted to say, "perfect", or, "stunning", or, "sexy". He wanted to tell her that she looked like Hollywood.
Adrian gave her two thumbs up.
Little did they know that someone stood less than ten feet away from the dressing room, leaning against the wall in a casual manner, listening in on their inane conversation. She ducked away behind a shelf as Lyra and the boy emerged, stalking after them.
Who's he?
The two went about their little shopping spree around the department store, unaware of a third party eying them from afar with sharp hawkish eyes hidden behind a pair of knockoff Ray-Ban aviators. She was contemplating disposing of the boy right there, but thought against it for obvious reasons. How did she put it? "Inconspicuous", right. Blowing his brains out was anything but and blowing Lyra's cover was the last thing she wanted; she could not be distracted from her mission, for both of their sakes.
The hunter crept forward, her boots thumping against the carpet as she hid behind a rack of clothes. There was no denying it. Green hair, gold eyes.
It was Lyra.
Adrian reached into his back pocket and opened his wallet, handing the cashier two hundred-dollar bills. He should have realized his mistake as the woman studied the two hundred-dollar bills with a discerning eye, tilting it and flipping it over. Adrian shifted his weight uneasily from left to right. He should have known that Benjamins were subject to plenty of scrutiny. Normal teenagers didn't carry that much money on them, unless they were dealing drugs or something of that nature. Not to mention the possibility of the money being counterfeit, or laundered.
The cashier accepted the payment and handed him his change.
"Have a nice day," Adrian murmured, briskly walking off with a handful of bags in the crook of his arm.
Lyra exited the department store, wearing her new clothes. A teal tank top, white capris, and sneakers. In the bright sun, Adrian could finally see her golden irises in all of their glory. The way they simply stood out took his breath away. It also made light of the actual color of her hair, platinum blonde, with green streaks.
Stunning.
She squinted at him, covering her eyes with her hand.
"So, where to next?" he asked.
"I don't know," Lyra answered, taking her place next to him yet again.
He'd definitely gotten used to having her by his side. He welcomed it. But in the back of his mind, something held him back. She was teasing him. Flirting with him. Playing games.
"You decide."
"Well..." He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "Sunglasses?"
Adrian tilted his Oakleys down and gave her a look. She returned it.
Their voices were only loud enough to be heard between the both of them. They spoke at a low volume, a murmur almost, sometimes looking at each other and sometimes not, but aware that they were having a conversation.
"So, tell me about yourself."
Adrian looked ahead, not quite facing her. "Well," he said, drawing it out slowly, "what's there to tell?"
"I saw some of those photos in your room. Are you a photographer?"
"Amateur. It's a hobby," he said.
"Seemed like a passion."
"Journalism," he said. "Photography just happens to be a part of it that I like." He added, "I worked on my school newspaper. Liked it, going to college to study it."
"So that's your special talent?"
Adrian paused, never slowing his walk in the direction of the sunglasses shop. The outdoor shopping mall was sparsely populated that day.
Lyra cleared her throat.
"Ah, special talent?" Adrian shrugged. "I can't tell if it's a talent. And it's not exactly special."
"But you're going to make it your life's work."
"Maybe. If I'm lucky."
"So do you have a Cutie Mark?"
"A what?" He thought for a bit. "Mark? Tattoo? You mean a tattoo, like the one on your back? No."
He'd expected Lyra to be ashamed of him mentioning it aloud, but to his surprise, she nodded eagerly. "Uh-huh. It's a lyre."
"I could tell. So do you remember something?"
Lyra bit her lip and craned her head to look up at the sky. "I used to play something, I think."
"Well, lyres aren't too common around here. I've seen a harp before, never a lyre."
Lyra. Lyre. Coincidence?
"I think it's a harp," she quickly said.
Her fingers are so smooth. Too smooth to have played a stringed instrument.
Lyra was an amnesiac, yet she seemed perfectly healthy. She still retained all of her mental faculties. She didn't have any problems in speech, and no signs of visible trauma. Was it still a good idea to take her to the hospital? And that nagging question in the back of his mind lingered: had she really lost her memories?
She fell silent for a bit, looking around aimlessly. "So how do you know what you want to do in life?"
The subject of these questions were making him uncomfortable. The future was always uncertain.
"Well, I don't," Adrian admitted.
"You don't?"
"I mean, I could be anything I want to be. I could find out that I don't really like journalism and pick a different major."
"Really?"
"If I wanted to. Are you alright?"
They stood in front of the sunglasses shop. He held open the door for her.
Lyra grinned. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Do you need a doctor?"
"I need a nice pair of shades," she giggled, strolling around the store.
He began plucking some frames off of some racks. "How 'bout some Guccis? Or maybe..."
She entered the sunglasses shop, the bell ringing as the door swung shut. The lady running the store looked positively ecstatic at the prospect of actual customers and immediately rushed forward, blocking her from her boy. He was definitely getting suspicious, turning around frequently.
"Hi! Welcome to Seattle Sunglasses! How can I help you?"
It would be best to play along, to lull him into a false sense of security.
The woman plucked her fake-as-fuck aviators from her face, revealing her narrowed eyes. "Yeah," she said abrasively. "I just came in to ask about this one."
At once the beaming manager began to explain to her how hers were, in fact, not authentic. The leather-clad woman wasn't paying attention, shifting back and forth on her boots, watching the boy out of the corner of her eye.
Adrian turned back to Lyra, who was currently trying on a pair of comically large Dior shades.
"Aviators?" he suggested.
He placed them on her face and studied her face.
"Does it look good?"
"It looks alright. What colors do you like?"
"Green is nice, teal green."
Of course.
"Maybe white?" Adrian said, brushing back wispy strands of silvery hair behind her ear, putting on a pair of white retro Ray-Bans.
"How does it look?" Lyra grinned.
"Cute," he said, raising a hand. "We'll take 'em."
They were leaving. She would let them walk away under the pretense of being a customer. The two made their purchase, shelling out some cash for a pair of shades, and waited patiently.
"Gimme a pair of those ones, yeah. Gold frames, orange lenses."
"Fantastic! I'll ring you right up."
She sneaked a glance behind her. She was losing line of sight.
"Make it quick."
Their modest little shopping spree ended at about high noon at the mall, which was starting to become packed with bustling crowds. Now, they were getting back to the parking lot.
Lyra seemed to be full of questions, often pointing out and asking him how they worked. He tried his best to answer her, kicking himself every time he was about to treat her like she was stupid for not knowing how electricity worked.
"So, it's like magic, right? Electricity?"
Adrian blinked once, twice, raised an eyebrow. "Um, Lyra, magic doesn't exist."
Lyra took this new information in with a slow nod. "Uh-huh. Hm."
He looked at her worriedly. This was serious. He tried bringing up the topic of taking her to get some help several times, but each time Lyra just laughed it off, or changed the subject.
They squinted in the sunlight. He covered his eyes with his hand, reaching for his sunglasses. It did not escape him that Lyra had copied him, hooking the temple of her shades in her shirt as well when she saw him do it.
He opened the trunk and set down all of the bags, his arm a bit tired from holding all of them. In the driver's seat, he inserted the key and reached up to adjust the rear-view mirror and exited the parking lot. She angled her head towards the window and watched the world pass by her, silent.
"You wanna listen to some music?"
"In here?"
"Sure."
He turned on the radio. At once, the interior began to fill with music.
"What kind of music do you like?"
"This," Lyra answered, bobbing her head slightly to the beat of the song.
He kept his eye trained on the rear-view mirror. Minutes passed. His fingers tapped at the steering wheel. Lyra looked like she wanted to say something, and he cranked the volume down.
"Yeah?"
"Hmm? Nothing."
He helped her get her things into her flat. The entire trip up the elevator he noticed how uneasy she was. Before he left for good, he spent fifteen minutes showing her how to call him, how to turn on her computer. Hopefully, it would all come back to her.
"Wow, it's getting late," he said, checking his white wristwatch. It read: 7:45. He touched her shoulder. "I'll see you later, alright?"
As he shoved his hands in his pockets and began to leave, calling the elevator.
"Adrian?" He turned. Her hands were clasped in front of her and she lowered her head. "Thanks."
He smiled. "Sure. No problem. I had a good time."
"No, I mean, thank you," Lyra said, "for saving me."
He thought about saying something callous. Be humble, be modest. His mouth opened to say something trite, "No problem", or, "You'd have done the same for me", but stopped himself.
What do you say to a person after rescuing them? There were no words.
And she turned, facing him. Her arms were jutting out as if she was about to hug him, only she was hesitating. In the midst of trying to come up with the right words to say, she suddenly jumped forward and wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his narrow chest.
A quick hug, he thought. Brief, maybe two seconds. The kind best friends gave each other.
When he tried to pull away, he was surprised to find that she was still holding him. That was when he realized her head was on his chest, then his shoulder. He felt her warm breath on his neck, tickling him. Adrian was not tall by any means, but for some reason, Lyra's body just seemed to fit with his. He hugged her back, but not too tight, and made sure his hands were on her upper back. He didn't know how long they held each other. But there was that feeling of warmth as he encircled his arms around her, and for a moment, he felt emboldened, and nearly wanted to turn his head only slightly and brush his lips up against the cheek of a girl he met yesterday.
He didn't.
Instead, he murmured,
"Lyra, why were you out there?"
Only then, as he realized what he was saying, it was too late. It was clear he'd overstepped his boundaries. Her eyes went glassy and she looked away. They separated.
"I don't know."
A lie, or a truth. Half-truth, perhaps. Lyra would tell him in due time, or whenever she felt like he, he supposed.
"Lyra, just...promise me that you'll get some help if you need it. Please?"
She recited, "Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."
What?
She nodded, and waved as the elevator doors closed.
Adrian stood naked in front of the mirror, standing up straight. He punched his abs, frowning slightly. The physique of a swimmer, maybe. A really lean, sleek swimmer, that is. A four-pack, not quite six. He flexed his arms, noting how pitiful his muscles were. It was strange, suddenly starting to care what he looked like, starting to care what kind of clothes he wore. He studied his face with a level of scrutiny never before devoted to his complexion, sifted through his closet for the right kind of clothes.
He needed a haircut. A new pair of shoes.
He stopped himself. Why? Why was he going through all of the trouble of making himself look presentable, attractive? Lyra, of course Lyra was the reason. But why? She was not beautiful. Beauty was reserved for the old of age and mature. She was pretty, petite, sexy.
Her hair.
That was it. He had a thing for girls with short hair. It was the hair.
Adrian splashed his face with water, scrubbing his face vigorously and looking at his reflection, rubbing the beginnings of a shadow on his jaw. She probably liked clean shaven men.
She's an amnesiac.
Part of him wanted to slap himself in the face to bring him to reality. She was damaged goods. Perhaps "damaged" was the wrong word to use, but there was no denying there was something incredibly wrong. Either she really did lose or memories or she was playing around with him. Part of him had to take into consideration that amnesia wasn't a joke. It was very real, and it did happen to people. He couldn't imagine forgetting faces, places. To lose days, weeks, even years of your life. Lyra seemed to be taking it well. She seemed positive.
Was that hug genuine? He felt so.
He wet the blades of his cheap disposable razor and rubbed shaving cream all over his face, slowly running the razor down his face.
That feeling of warmth returned to his body again as he remembered the sensation of her arms around his torso, her hands holding his. That was it, wasn't it? She'd shown him affection. He hadn't asked for it, hadn't opened his arms for an invitation for a hug that would have resulted in a forced, awkward hug, hadn't grabbed her hand to try and make her hold his. She meant to give him a hug, meant to hold his hand. He gladly returned it.
Secretly, he wanted it.
Friends hold hands all the time. At least girls do. With guys, maybe.
He washed the blade and ran it down the other side of his face.
Just a hug. Friends hug each other all the time.
But it was much more intimate than just a simple hug. She'd leaned against him. Let him hold her. Why? Why did she do that? Did she like him?
I did rescue her off the streets.
Girls, he found out a long time ago, were a mystery.
His phone vibrated. A text?
"am i doing it rite?"
He laughed, and sent her a text back.
"yea u even got the spelling down"
He lay on the floor on his back, his arms behind his head and his face turning red as he did crunches, going until it burned. Burning was good. No pain, no gain. He'd never exercised before, but it wasn't too late to start. At the same time, he tried figuring out the things that made sense, the things he knew about her, compartmentalizing all the information he'd gleaned. She allegedly lost her memories. She had money, probably came from a wealthy family.
Then came the questions.
He fell back, his chest heaving. His abs ached and his spine was sore. He crawled into bed and flicked the light switch off.
In dreams, he saw her.
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Yayyyyyy update!
Edit: that creepy person? Lyra x Adrian shipping? I like where this is going.
Cute and creepy. I like it. Definitely got some Bourne feel to it, except somehow Adrian is the hunted one.
This story is actually just fantastic. Will we find out who's following them in the next chapter? I have so many questions... That means you're doing you're job right, by the way.
Anyway, congrats on a sweet story!
I get the sneaking suspicion that the biker is a griffin. As for who? Still trying to work that out.
Story is getting interesting, awating next update.
AND THEN THERE WAS THE ROAR OF AN ENGINE AS A MASKED MOTORCYCLIST RODE INTO ADRIAN'S ROOM AND RAMMED INTO HIS GENITALS AT FORTY MILES PER HOUR.
*ahem*
Seriously though, after seeing her following Adrian, I think I'm going to expect that motorcyclist to kick down the door in every scene until she finally does. Yay stalker-antagonists. Or possibly protagonist. I mean, wanting to blow Adrian's brains out for simple efficiency doesn't necessarily make her a villain... but I'm still betting antagonist.
I am intrigued by all of this. Good job, sir. I'm enjoying it too so there's another plus. But I am a skeptical brony and I know that this has equal potential to be amazing or crash into the ground and burn. Good luck to you. I'll be standing by and eagerly awaiting updates.
Well, this certainly needs a romance tag. Once again, your rhetoric is wonderful, if scattered with grammatical errors. Do not worry, they do not sully the story.
This is interesting. However, you need to be careful with your plot-line--do not make it something shallow and contrived that only serves as an excuse for romance. That is always annoying. Please have some form of balance.
So far, you seem to be doing quite well. Once again, the awkward moment gags are hilarious.
Have a nice day.
--Not a brony
This pleases me.
Awkward doesn't fit the situation Adrian was in...
hmm buck naked in an ally? sounds like tellyporting but how did she get all her stuff there before hoof? is it possibal she replaced somepony who is now in equestria? did somepony else realize that she isnt lyra and followed her to earth/21 century (different theorys on where/when equestria is)
Why did i think of Rainbow Dash when that creepy person started stalking Adrian and... Dayum, Dennis! You've given Lyra a whole new level of sexy! and i love it (Plus hand fetish?)
Ah, the mystery deepens.
How did Lyra get here?
Who got her the hotel room and all the stuff?
Who's the biker lady? I don't have enough clues to speculate.
So... Many...questions! Moar! Need Moar!
DENNIS, I EXPECT BAYSPLOSIONS
YOU CAN'T HYPE UP THAT MYSTERIOUS FOLLOWER WITHOUT DELIVERING SOME BAYSPLOSIONS
I'M COUNTING ON YOU, SOLDIER
This chapter pisses me off for certain reasons. I've actually had people follow me around like this. Only, they're always so frightened at the prospect of me knowing that they're following me. -_-
Fucking amateurs.
1642715
BITCH PLEASE I'M FABULOUS
None of this geography and none of these places are matching up for me, and you know what? I don't even care. All I know is that I'm looking forward to Adrian's shock and horror when he realizes that Lyra doesn't have awesome kung fu to go with her allegedly missing memories. But, he will persevere.
Never underestimate the amazing stopping power of a frying pan to the face!
1642742
I'm not a Seattleite, cut me some slack, baby!
The only reason I chose Seattle was for its rain. Sure, I could have taken the easy route and came up with a fake coastal city called Ashton or Fairview or something like that.
1642748
Slack shall be cut! Although I will comment that there are no large malls to speak of in Capitol Hill (there is a fairly large commercial district, though). Clearly, they were at the mall in Northgate (one of them, at least). But hey, slack is slack!
And like I said, who cares? I'm waiting for stalker-lady to get cold cocked with a skillet.
She was damaged goods.
...I wanna slap Adrian for thinking that! ...sure it's not what he meant... but it still makes me want to slap him!
Of course I'm now waiting for the stalker lady to jump Adrian at any point in time... of course as long as Adrian keeps himself close to Lyre and friendly the women will have a hard time justifying it to Lyre... that is if she's friendly with Lyre... anyways looking forward to next update! And liking the story! 
Also I'm very interested in this... stalker person. Of course Adrian seems a little jumpy... then again he did find a naked young women in the middle of an alley way, she has some form of memory loss and is apparently well founded... so I guess he has reason to be jumpy.
You has me addicted... but
gamesprays.com/files/resource_media/preview/3-lolwut-7634_preview.jpg
Fuck damn this is awesome shit now.
UPDATE FASTER
I would have had this:
On a CD somewhere. But thats just me.
Although they aren't in the character tags, the character/stalker reminded me of either
or Gilda.
1632536 I see what you did there...
Sing her song and become nothing
I get the feeling that the mysterious follower is Spitfire.
I could be wrong, though.
Well this is interesting.
Somebody else probably already pointed it out, but amnesiacs don't forget things like what cars and phones are. Granted, Adrian might not be savvy to this information.
imageshack.us/a/img33/5764/likethischapter.jpg
1642371 A masked motorcyclist. A Kamen Rider. But how about one who turns into his own bike?
toysnjoys.com/kamenriderw/wfc05kamenrideraccel.jpg
She got a bikini and flip-flops for the beach? In Seattle? Dude, what? Meh, I don't really care, the awesomeness of this story more than makes up for it.memegenerator.net/instance/30452959
1643415
Well, that's depressing. I thought that image would go through...
Dude, if I had the capacity to write a PonyFall/"Ponies on Earth" story that was even HALF this good, I'd consider it an achievement. Excellent stuff; the mystery and intrigue has me hooked!
funnydictionary.com/img/entry_images/900/vr7KUExgR8r.jpg
I KNEWZ IT
and was I the only one who thought of Gilda as the stalker?
1632665
This comment is singlehandedly putting your story on my reading list. "X that Doesn't Suck" (assuming it actually doesn't) has a special place in my heart. Hell, I think everything I've either posted to fimfic or am in the process of writing fits that category.
RECLAIM THOSE GENRES. Seed the wastelands.
No romance tag? I'm suprised and impressed. Normally these kind of stories end in romance.
And for the biker, I could think of two equestrians that could fit. The one would obviously be Gilda, the other would be Celestia, she seems to have a thing for golden stuff.
Edit:
Nearly forgot shades in gold-orange could also mean Spitfire
Am I the only one that thinks that the mootorcyclist is Bon-Bon?
Adrian is just on the right side of 'pleasantly stupid'. He wavers from time to time, but mostly I can dig him. Also, Adrian. Slightly dorky name makes it all better.
Lyra seems reasonable enough. Doing a very good 'fish out of water, but doesn't want to ask to be put back yet'.
1642371
Omfg that was hilarious
Is the stalker Bon Bon.................... or someone else I may think it is.............
IS THERE GONNA BE CLOP?
cause clop is rated under "mature", not "teen"
1642371 Oh, God! My sides!
24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mczuxwNalQ1rntws9o2_400.gif
Seapony Human Lyra?
1643415
There are beaches in Seattle, you do realize. And it isn't constant doom and gloom year-round, it lets up for three months for the season we call summer.
SHE'S LIKE JASON BOURNE?! AWESOME!
...music?
you need music that would be awesome Lyra-esque...
...try this...
Will she go to the same school as him?
DAT ASS
1644112
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
Looks interesting. Will read later.
[img]data:image/jpeg;base64,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
This is becoming one of those stories that if they don't update fast enough, i just might get violent... Just saying (hint
hint)
1643273
Wasn't... quite what I was going for. :P