In love with a murderer

Chapter 15

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MAYA'S POV:

A look.

The eyes tell more than words could ever say, that was known, people who feel certain ways towards you will look at you in certain ways. We all grow up knowing that

Even when you're a kid, you can tell if someone is looking at you with happiness in their eyes or anger, you know whether they're mad you took their toy or they were just upset about it, and we base our following actions on this knowledge.

It gets more complicated as we grow up though. People start realising how much people can tell based on their facial expressions and they start changing it to convince a person into believing something else, but one thing that can't knowingly be changed, is one's eyes.

Carina always looks at me like she's intrigued, looking at me like I'm the only one in the room, it was different to how someone like Andy would look at me.

Andy would take a glance, seem as if she wasn't fazed by it and look away but Carina always held it. She would look me in the eye for a few seconds as if trying to decode information before finally looking away.

Carina had always looked at me in a way that nobody else had before, there wasn't a way to describe it, I didn't even know myself what to think of it, but she just had this way of looking at me that was like when your friend is mouthing something to you from across the room and you are supposed to understand but you have no idea what they're saying.

She knew that it meant something, but she had absolutely no idea what.

Every now and then though, there would be such a simple gesture that just meant something, it was just comforting. Like when she would smile as soon as she sees her and not the fake smile she always got from her at first, it was a proper smile, one that she had no control over, or when we lay face to face in bed at night with locked eyes, communicating all our most absurd feelings without saying a word. Something as simple as her looking over at me instinctively when I feel uneasy, letting me know she was there and things like that meant the world and more.

Wait, why are we talking about this... oh yeah, Carina and I were just in the middle of a very difficult cake recipe that was failing tremendously, and it was just something about the way she kept looking at me that I couldn't understand.

"Ok, but like, what's the difference between softened butter and regular butter, butter is butter!" Carina asks, basically having a conversation with a piece of paper at this point, "Oh mio dio" she sighs, I had learnt that one, ever since she started living here, I started picking up on a few Italian words she tends to repeat

"Everything ok?" she asks, looking over at me obviously noticing the very intense smile plastered on my face

"Oh yeah, I'm fine" I smile, continuing to watch her as she smiles at me, her eyes shining before she looks around the room, trying to find her phone to google the answer to her prior question

She was so pretty. Have I said that before?

She doesn't even have to try; she could be running around a kitchen with flour all over her face and her hair in a messy bun and she would still look like pure perfection.

"Can I sue a recipe?" she asks seriously

"I thought Italians were supposed to be good cooks" I chuckle, going over to wipe some of the flour over her face, probably staying there a bit longer than necessary but who's to judge?