The Phantom Thief - Snowrabbit (reading like a writer TXT) 📗

/> “No!”
“Why not? I do know a little bit about literature and if no one else reads it anyway, what bad could it do?”
He looked to the side. “It’s... nothing for other people.”
“How would you know if no one else ever read it? Also, if you write, it’s stupid if you never let anyone read it. Come on...!”
A sigh. “You won’t give up, will you?” “Nope...!” “... Fine. Read it, but don’t say I haven’t warned you!” “Okay!”
After that little ‘quarrel’ our little game went on, with him trying to get more information about me, mostly about why I was stealing, what I was doing with the stuff and how I chose my targets. Of course, I didn’t give him all the details, but I tried to tell him most of the stuff. At least the one that I knew wouldn’t harm my chances of continuing to steal successfully. I myself on the other hand mostly asked about simple stuff, like favorites, hobbies and so on.
And everything went pretty well, with him warming up a little after a while, giving longer answers and so on. Maybe it was connected with the fact, that he and I surprisingly were quite similar in ways we both didn’t thought we ever could have been. (For example, we both loved music and even if his favorite was classical music while I adored rock, we could find certain positive facts each other’s style of music.)
But then, of course, he asked the one question we both knew I could not answer honestly without getting problems.
“Who are you really?”
I sighed. “Come on, did you have

to ask that? You know that I can’t answer that without putting myself in danger, right?”
He stayed silent, waiting for an answer.
“Let’s put it like that: I’m just a more or less normal boy with a slightly dysfunctional family and a small criminal twist. And that’s about as detailed as I can get without having to watch out what I’m saying to not give you any information about my identity. Sorry about that, but you are

a policeman and I quite like my freedom.”
He nodded slowly, though I wasn’t sure if that was an understanding nod or more something like ‘I’ll get you anyway’.
“So... can I ask you one last question?” I mean, I would’ve done it right away, but first I didn’t really give an appropriate answer to his question and second it was getting late and unlike me Alan had to get up pretty early.
“You just did, but go on anyway.”
I nodded before looking him straight in the eye, leaning a bit in his direction. It was my last question and probably the most important one. At least, it was for me.
“Say... do you still hate me?”
That seemed to surprise him, but he looked like he was honestly thinking about it so I stayed quiet until I got an answer.
“Um... I didn’t actually hate

you to begin with. Dislike, yes, maybe even strong dislike, but not hate. And now... well, I guess you can

be okay if you try to. But don’t think that this will hinder me while trying to catch you! You are still a thief and you will pay for your crimes!”
I smiled happily, relieved at the given answer and nodded. “Alright, I can live with that! And you know, I like you too!”
“Hey, I never said I particularly like

you either!”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean that I’m wrong, right?”
I grinned, suddenly in a very good mood. I wasn’t sure if he really liked me, but as he didn’t answer, I guess he felt at least something like that. And hey, one day I’d get him to admit it!
But for now it was really getting late, so I just ruffled his hair one more time - having come to like it even though he always got annoyed by it -before saying my goodbyes and leaving for home. Ah, I really could repeat stuff like that more often...!


Chapter ten (Yuri)

Like that, the rest of the summer went by, followed by fall and finally, the weather got even colder as the winter slowly approached. And it was really awesome, because I had so much fun, more than in quite a long time.
I visited Alan again a few times and we got to talk about some things. I still didn’t get what he really thought about me after our game of twenty questions the second time I met him at his home, but I guess it was okay, otherwise he probably wouldn’t speak to me. I even got to read his story. And really, I know he thought it was bad or whatever, but I liked it. It was interesting to read about the thoughts of detectives and policemen in his stories. Also, there probably were his own experiences in it, a reason to like it even more.
But I did my thefts anyway, so it wasn’t easy to gather Brownie points with him. Yet he met me alone every time, trying his best to stop me from stealing the stuff. And he was the only one who at least achieved something

, because he tried changing his tactics, while the other policemen somehow still thought I wanted to march in through the front door... Idiots.
The same thing happened in the last days of November, but still, something was different. Because as I entered the room I found Alan looking not exactly good. He had a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck even though it was pretty warm in the building and sniffled every few minutes. At least he was alone, as always.
“Hey, you alright?”, I asked, slightly concerned and he jumped a bit.
“Of course I am.”, he mumbled, but even his voice sounded slightly raspy. It had already been a while since I last visited him as I had been very busy preparing the theft, but I was sure he had been pretty healthy back then. And now, he certainly was not.
I even had no problem in reaching the painting I should steal. It wasn’t that useful to us - except for the frame, maybe - but the owner only collected expensive paintings and he really had skeletons in his closet - metaphorically speaking - so the opportunity was too good.
Anyway, Alan didn’t even try to stop me, instead, he stood in front of the window where I came in. It was unguarded, of course, as it was on the second floor, but I had my ways, as always. So the idea itself wasn’t that bad.
“Be nice and give up, okay? Your escape route is blocked and the doors are guarded by my colleagues.”, the policeman said, but he actually didn’t look as if he could stop me. Instead he seemed to lean against the window for balance, his mind seemingly set on not letting me pass.
I sighed. “You should go home and sleep. You’re ill, right? So behave like an ill person and rest!”
“Not before you’re arrested...!” He shook his head and glared at me. (Really, he could always glare, he’d probably even do it when he was at the brink of death if something - or someone, like me - annoyed him)
But then, he seemed to have some kind of problem, because he grabbed his head, before suddenly, he blacked out. Fortunately, I wasn’t that far away and fast enough to catch him before he hit the ground. As I held him I wondered why he was that red in the face, so I took off one of my gloves to feel his forehead. He was burning up. What the hell?! He really should’ve stayed in bed...
I laid him down on a couch that stood around in the room, before taking the paper from the picture, ripping it to shreds. (Of course I had put on my glove again, to not leave any treacherous fingerprints) If I couldn’t steal it I would make it vanish anyway. I threw the shreds out of the window, before placing one of my roses in front of the empty frame and turning back to the unconscious policeman.
Actually it was pretty strange that I saw him without consciousness that often, but oh well... time to play the savior again!

By the time I had arrived at Alans apartment - carrying him bridal style like the last time since it was the easiest way - he had fallen asleep, slightly snuggling into me. Though he just did the latter because the weather really was cold and I was the nearest warm place... But hey, I guess that made me pretty comfy, right?
I laid him into his bed, taking his scarf and jacket off him and placing his blanket over him.
After I made sure he seemed comfortable I went into his kitchen, searching the ingredients for some kind of soup, which would probably be the best for him right now. Hey, Lily once taught me her special recipe against almost everything. And Alan seemed to have nearly everything... at least a fever and a cold, he’d probably start coughing soon too. So I was glad that he actually had enough stuff for me to work with and I could start cooking once more in his kitchen.
But this time, I could not stay for long. I knew that I’d visit him the next day, but for now I needed to confess my ‘failure’ to Lucy. So after I finished cooking I replaced the flowers in his kitchen once again - after a while I had made it a habit to bring blue roses for him if his old ones started to wither - wrote a little ‘Get well soon!’ card to go with it and put the soup in his fridge, also writing on the card that he’d find it there. I only left one plate for him in his bedroom, with another rose next to it. He’d know it was mine, as I was the only one crazy enough to break into his house, cook and leave blue roses before going my way I guess.
As I went home in the end, I just hoped that he’d appreciate my effort at least a little bit. And, of course, that he’d get better.


Chapter eleven (Yuri)

I hadn’t been wrong about Lucys reaction after all. As I confessed her that I once again didn’t do what I should’ve done, not even stealing the painting, she stared at me as if I had gotten mad.
“Could you please

tell me why - exactly - you destroyed that painting instead of stealing it?”
I shrugged. “Look, Alan passed out directly in front of me because he’s ill. I couldn’t carry him and

the painting, because that thing was just too big. And really, what did you want with that thing? We don’t need stuff like that!”
She let out an annoyed breath. “I know we don’t need it, but you should’ve stolen it anyway! The frame was pure silver, do you know what I could’ve done with that

?”
“Yes, I know, but come on...! I was worried about Alan...”, I defended myself.
“Why do you favor him over your work anyway? He’s just a policeman!”
I sighed. “He’s not ‘just a policeman’. Do you think I’d risk my job as a thief for the next best police officer? I mean, I like him.”
“Maybe, but I still think it’s too dangerous to do all that stuff just because you like someone.”
I looked at her and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to understand what I meant as I had said ‘like’. She returned my look as if she waited for an answer, before her eyes widened slightly. “Oh... you