On a walk with my sister, we were trying to come up with plots for Pandora Hearts fanfics. This here is the result of which, inspired by Sekaiichi Hatsukoi Kisa Shouta no Baai. I'm not too sure how long this will end up being, but I've got a steady plan of plot so it won't get too out of control like some have...either way!

Disclaimer: I do not own Pandora Hearts or any of the characters~

Enjoy!

Prologue

Leo wasn't sure when his interest became infatuation.

Had it been…July? June? May, when he noticed? Sometime in the summer had he only realized what he had brought himself into becoming a routine each day, and a few months after that epiphany did he gain another on what he really had become during this large period of time he spent away from his home.

A stalker.

Yes, a stalker, the word that rolled off his tongue with a slur and left behind a terrible taste in his mouth. The mere word alone made his eye twitch, a new shade of red an artist would be proud of overcoming his entire body, the room changing from 70 Fahrenheit to 70 Celsius easily. As horribly frightening as the word sounded, it was the only thing Leo Baskerville could think of for what he had become; a stalker.

A stalker.

When most heard that dreadful noun, the popular belief of what a stalker is was a creepy man or woman who sat outside someone's house and looked through their windows, followed them everywhere, took notes of what they did, etc. Adjusting his large rimmed glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose, Leo begged to differ; a stalker was, by definition, a person who pursues game, prey, or a person stealthily. He would know. He had looked it up in every dictionary and online website there was to behold. Now, while this definition didn't pin him down exactly, it was a rather exaggerated thought of what he was indeed doing.

Pursuing stealthily.

But was he really pursuing him? He wouldn't really say that…he was merely intrigued! It was…something about him…something that kept Leo returning to that music store on the corner of the fifth block from his work. A small, belittled store hidden from the rest of the city, worn down and looking as if it had been pulled right from the 1800's on the outside appearance. On the inside, however, it appeared much different; racks filled to the brim with CD's and records, instruments lining the walls, and a doorway in the back leading to a staff room where more stock was kept. Design wise, wood seemed to have been plentiful when it had been built; glossy cherry floorboards that the black haired man could always catch his reflection in when he averted his eyes to keep from being found, and deep, mahogany walls that matched the single door in the front of the shop.

Two display cases were set outside on either side of the entrance, both backed by a wall as to be unable to look inside the store itself. In the first case to the left of the door, two guitars were set up along with a flute laying on the red, satin cloth between them, a violin against the wall, and a trumpet peeking out from behind the second guitar. In the other case, multiple CD's were strewn about , some propped up to see the covers while others were completely flipped over. A small wire stand was set up to display eight records, all fanning out of the wires so only a sliver of each could be seen.

A few feet above the door, Partager une Mélodie was written in silver metal atop a black bar, lights hidden in front of it to shine on the logo.

The Baskerville could delve into even more detail, if asked. He could name every CD on every rack, where every scratch was in the floor, etc. He knew what worker swept the floor last night by the condition next morning, easily able to tell the differences between a horizontal lazy sweep to someone who mopped in circular motions quite thoroughly, leaving a healthy glisten on the floor. He was aware of every instrument they had in stock, every album, every worker, everything. He could tell you which employee stepped into the building first that morning by the temperature, knowing the habits of each one.

Leo knew it all, knew every detail of that tiny store. Every pattern of wood in the floors and walls, every crack, every crevice, and any other detail he could think of. It wasn't as if he studied the shop day and night, no, what a boring thing to do for someone of his intelligence! He noticed things. He was simply there, lurking among the racks of discs that raised a foot higher than his own height. Peeking through music, looking at that one reason he even visited the unknown music abode.

One reason. One man.

A blonde male—a male, of all things!—that was rarely behind the counter, always up and about the store, ordering everything neatly in place. Sometimes he would simply pull out a chair and sit by the main desk, polishing and cleaning every speck of dust from each instrument that wasn't already spotless.

And he smiled.

There were scarce days that went by when he didn't have a gentle, mellow, kind smile on his face as he worked with those music making pieces of art. But he wasn't always smiling, no, of course not, only when he was completely at peace and in his own corner of the world. His co-workers did well to rarely bother him, only doing so when needed or for a rare annoyance to which he would burst out in a fit of rage.

He intrigued Leo, that was for sure. Something about him, the aura around him had Leo returning to that store each and every day—besides Sunday, when it was closed. It had become part of his schedule, a daily routine, an unspoken ritual that he rarely questioned. Simply seeing such a serene man so peaceful and content with life made Leo content, something he could no longer go a day without. It had become a physical dependence, needing to see that man everyday whenever he could.

Earlier on in his stalking adventures, Leo had attempted to not visit the store for a day. He was only able to roll around in his bed, wondering what he was doing, if he was there, if he was still shining that bright smile he wore so well… He always broke down. Never could he do it, not once could he leave for good, always coming back for more, coming back to gaze at those soft eyes downcast on whatever piece was in the blonde man's hands.

Even on those Sundays when he had thought himself to be doomed did he find a loophole, a loophole being the same man sitting on a park bench every first day of the week for an hour. Leo was nearly overjoyed when he stumbled upon him once again, now able to bring a book with him and sit down across the expanse of land, looking over his shoulder occasionally to try and catch one of those miracle making grins of his.

Life was hard and always putting Leo in even harsher times than before, his spirits constantly low. Yet, with this dirty little secret of his, he could find a meaning for life. To see that smile was to see the simple good in the world, to believe in the dawn of a bright tomorrow, to look forward to seeing it again the next day. For that reason and for that reason alone did Leo wake up each morning, driving through the long days only to wind back up in that tiny corner shop that was the sanctuary for his peace of mind.

For one reason, for one man, for one smile…

A simple pleasure couldn't be called something as disgusting as "stalking," Leo decided. For now…for now, until something better could surface in his mind, was he gazing at the stars, counting them one by one as they lit up his dull and seemingly meaningless life. Star gazing…that's what it was, all that it was, a hobby, a routine, a something he couldn't go on without. After all, who ever said that people were stalkers for constantly watching stars all night? Stars were beyond humans, beyond the hateful term of stalking, a beauty in itself.

Wasn't it easy to believe that that man hidden away in Partager une Mélodie was one of those stars as well?

Until the day Leo could find a new meaning to life, until he could create happiness by himself for himself, would he continue watching stars. If this was life, if this was happiness, then maybe he should simply go into astronomy and try to decode the mystery behind that glistening smile he had come to love.