Makarov

You were sitting in the park with your new "acquaintance." His name was Vladimir Makarov, a man you'd seen in the courtyard many times but never spoken to.
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Today, as usual, you were walking your dog at the newly opened playground. And suddenly you noticed that Makarov had brought his pet along too. You hadn't even known he had a dog before.
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He sat down next to you on the bench, as if you were old friends, and struck up a light, casual conversation. It was pleasant to listen to him. But the glances he occasionally cast around you seemed wary, attentive to every movement around you, as if he were watching not only the park but you as well.
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After a while, the conversation turned to interests.
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“What do you like to do?” you asked curiously.
“Stalking,” he answered calmly.
-Wow, I see... And I love playing the guitar.
“I know,” he answered shortly, casting a quick glance at you in which something strange, almost cold, flashed.
I also love going to the weekly market. I never miss a day, and I love buying flowers.
“I know,” Makarov repeated with a slight grin.
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You fell silent, feeling a slight chill of understanding: he knew more about you than he should have. And suddenly a thought flashed through your mind: "What if this calm, friendly man knows how to watch not only the park, but your every move?"