Garden of Eden | Cain x GN!Reader
Contains: stalking (from Cain and from the reader), freak4freak dynamic lol (but no actual NSFW), reader kinda gets in Cain's personal space at the end but doesn't actually touch him, allusions to religious guilt/trauma (from Cain), Cain is a little mean but has a begruding respect for the reader, Cain is obsessed with the reader and is too emotionally stunted to realize it, tiny mention of Cain's patriarchal ideas about manhood, lmk if I need to include anything else!
To him, you were an anomaly, for a lack of a better term. A person who had waltzed into Hauntnet's chatroom one night and enraptured the paranormal investigation club with your presence.
Your light-hearted charisma, underlined by your fearless authenticity, managed to soften even the most standoffish of members- it was truly remarkable how quickly even someone like Silas had warmed up to you. Cain had never seen the man look so at ease as he was when chatting with you during one of the group's cafe get-togethers.
But Cain was not charmed. The further you had integrated yourself into the group, the more irritated he grew.
It wasn't too surprising that Cain couldn't stand you; after all, some would say you were his complete opposite. Cain was cynical, hyper-analytical and in all senses of the word, a hermit who had piously dedicated himself to a life of serving his God. You, on the other hand, were a bright, mischievous thing who didn't give two damns about the all-seeing man in the sky whom he bowed down to everyday.
Where Cain obeyed the biblical creeds that dictated his life, you questioned them. Cain didn't mind questions about his faith. He was quite accustomed to receiving them on Zwitter and Reddit and he was more than happy to offer a scathing reply towards anyone who got too snarky with their comments.
But with you it was different. When you raised a good counterpoint- a genuinely good one, one that left him pondering even on his walk back home in the brisk night air- the most he could offer you was a slight tilt of his head, dark abyssal eyes staring curiously back at yours. You had truly stumped him. And your small, quietly victorious smile in return should've infuriated him. It really, really should've.
But instead, all he could feel was an inexplicable warmth spreading across his cheeks.
Was it from embarrassment? No, no. It couldn't be. Cain was hardly one to feel something like that. He was too stubborn, too proud- though not overtly so where his Lord would chastise him for his hubris. But he was a man of his convictions- this shouldn't be enough to rattle him.
Emotions were confusing. It's why Cain didn't bother dwelling on them. The last thing he needed were his feelings interfering with his mission of guiding Earth's lost lambs towards the light of God (along with his usual hunting of the paranormal and demonic). But as he rifled through the photos on your MySpace page at 2 in the morning- selfies, photos with family and friends, pictures of your pet- meticulously noting each and every caption, Cain realized that you were becoming much more than just a distraction. He was fixated on you.
But Cain believed that every problem had a solution. He reasoned that maybe he just needed to gather more information on you, more than what he already had. Satiate his curiosity until he got bored.
He already knew your address. You, as well as every other imbecile on these social media sites, were not great at maintaining any semblance of privacy. In almost every photo you posted, the address of the location was always tagged at the top. There were certain locations you frequented specifically in your posts. From there, he narrowed down what days of the week you went there.
And so, donned in a black cap and hoodie, he'd wait at those locations until you showed up. Once you did, he'd observe you in your natural state. You talked with others, laughed along with them.
Or sometimes you'd be in a less social mood, bringing your laptop and headphones with you to sit down in a corner and type away- he understood that feeling all too well.
Regardless, once you were done with your activities, you'd be on your way home. And Cain would follow. He'd stand outside, across the street as you fumbled with your house keys, making sure you got inside your home without any issue. He was not the most ideal knight in shining armor but as a man, it was his God-given duty to ensure your safety.
A few months of this routine passed by. And in the end, Cain understood that no, he was not bored with you at all. He could only feel himself getting sucked in more, day by day.
So as he kneeled down in front of his bed, pressing his forehead against his mattress, Cain prayed, harder than he had every prayed in his entire life. Begging his Lord to take away this stupid, useless fixation he had.
But perhaps God was simply testing Cain. Testing his willpower. Yes, yes that must be it. In fact, Cain could picture his benevolent God right now. His radiant, holy light penetrating his measly soul as he asked, "Can you resist your temptations my child?"
And Cain would nod vigorously, replying with a reverent "Yes, my Lord. Of course." He knew he must put a stop to this- this sin, occupying his mind, plaguing his existence . So he ceased following you around. And on Hauntnet, he ignored every single message you sent to him.
However, the paranormal investigation club's in-person meet ups made resisting your allure a lot more difficult. Like tonight's for instance, which was out in the woods (yet another one of the group's attempts to find the legendary Mothman).
Cain found himself naturally observing every little thing about you: the half-grin you wore whenever Jiho or Jaeha said something that amused you, how you rested your chin in your palm when listening intently to someone's story and how your eyes always managed to land back on him every so often, as if to let him know that you had not forgotten about him.
Your stare was just too much. Today especially, there was a certain sharpness in them that made him feel pinned. He couldn't take it anymore.
Cain stood up from his spot on the ground and began to walk away. From behind him, he heard Jaeha pause in his storytelling before Lottie's hushed whisper told the man to "leave him be." After a beat, the story was resumed.
Cain trudged into the darkness of the woods. Not too far from the glow of the campfire, but just enough to get some privacy. He needed to cool off. To get away from your presence. You were a thorn in his side, an utter nuisance and if he could just-
Cain's thoughts came to halt. He glanced over his shoulder.
There you were, standing in all your glory. With your arms crossed over your chest and an eyebrow raised questioningly, he could tell that you were not going to let him escape so easily. After all, there was nothing you loved doing more than poking and prodding at him.
Cain turned around fully. "So what if I am? What does it matter to you?"
You smiled, taking a small step forward. He took a step back. "Why wouldn't it? We're friends, in a way. And we always have the most interesting conversations."
You stepped forward again. Cain stepped back once more. And hit the tree behind him.
He scowled, pressing up against the tree's trunk. "If your definition of 'interesting conversations' is you asking me silly questions just to annoy me, then I suppose you're just as irritating as I assumed you to be."
You huffed out a laugh. "If I'm so irritating, then explain to me why I always catch you staring at me. And when you're not staring at me, you're the one who always starts our arguments."
You stepped forward again- you were just a couple feet away now, hands hanging loose at your sides. Cain loathed the fluttering feeling that bloomed in his chest. "It's always me who says something in passing. Then you're the one who chimes in and disagrees with me. And you get so... passionate too." You tilt your head at him. "Don't get me wrong though. I like that. It's a nice break from the 'cold, mysterious' front you've got going on."
Cain licked his lips. "I don't really know what you are trying to say here."
Your eyes narrowed marginally. "I think you do." You leaned in closer. Cain could smell the soft scent of your fragrance. "I know what you've been doing Cain. Don't think I haven't noticed."
Cain rolled his eyes. There you go, trying to act all smart. "Noticed what?"
"How you've been following me around."
His stomach dropped. This didn't make any sense. He had covered his tracks, made himself completely unrecognizable in his disguise and always maintained a good distance away from you. So how could this be?
Cain refused to relent. Honing his expression back into it's typical look of disinterest, he asked, "You think I have the time to follow some nobody like you around?"
You shrugged, looking off to the side. "Yeah. Actually, I think you've got nothing better to do with your time. But don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."
"I told you, I wasn't following you-"
Your gaze returned back to his. There it was, that same edge in your eyes you had back at the campfire. Cain's body stilled. "How do you think I figured out that you were stalking me?" Your pupils were dilated, tracing each and every one of his features. "You think I just... magically noticed it?"
Cain could only stare back.
You grin. "Cain," your voice drops to a whisper. "I know you. You're the type to fixate on the things that fascinate you. Obsess over them. And really, I'm no different in that regard."
Cain inhaled sharply. If his assumption was correct then that could mean only one thing.
"You've been... following me too?" He bit out. It was meant to be a question, but he stated it more like a fact. Because he knew deep down that yes, you had been.
You nodded slowly. "I'm surprised you didn't notice."
True, he didn't. But Cain had always felt a lingering feeling of being watched. He had felt that way since his childhood, when his mother had drilled into his young mind the concept of the Heavenly Father's all-seeing, all-knowing and all-loving gaze.
But your stare, right now? It somehow managed to feel even more intense than the one he was used to all his life.
Cain shifted in his stance, mind racing over what he should do. He couldn't show himself as a simpering fool here. He was a man and he needed to act like one.
So in a stroke of boldness, he raised his hand to cup your cheek. Your expression faltered, softening at his touch. He ran his thumb along your cheekbone, before sliding it down to the bottom of your lip. A thoughtful hum escaped him.
"Whatever should I do with you?" He murmured.
You sighed. "Anything you want."
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