<span style="font-family: 'Georgia'">By the time Theo returned from his run, Ash had left, the fridge and cupboards stocked full of food and produce. Leave it to Ashleigh to leave him with more food than he needed or knew what to do with. He didn't stay in for long. His day was going to be a long and exhausting one.<br/>
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Come the day after, Theo woke wondering if he'd slept at all, but a cold shower and a large cup of coffee shook off of the worse of his fatigue.<br/>
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Try as he might throughout the week to ignore it, something was creeping along his periphery . He was constantly on edge, looking over his shoulder and jumping at every sound when he was alone. He'd started to  triple check all his locks when he was home, even locked his bedroom door when he went to sleep at night. He could have sworn he was seeing the same faces when he went out. He'd spoken to the front desk, asked if there'd been any strange people loitering around recently, someone who looked like they didn't belong. They'd answered in the negative. What should have been comforting, was only confirmation that whoever was after him knew what they were doing.<br/>
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The rest of his week went by uneventful, in spite of the oppressive weight that something bad was going to happen pressing in around him. Refusing to let his paranoia run his life, he stuck to his normal routine: Worked on a few commissioned pieces when he was home, booked out the gallery for the next month tours, and held his twice weekly classes in the studio. Ash popped in for lunch on Tuesday and Friday night he went out with friends.<br/>
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Come Saturday evening, he was alone in the gallery having just seen of his last class for the week, and cleaning up. The soft of drone of nightly traffic outside the studio kept him company as he folded up chairs and easels, taking any used tools to the back room for a thorough wash.</span>