OPIA → boyxboy

Way

Oh, and there was that boisterous pale boy yet again, staring at me. This was odd. I am not aesthetically pleasing.

I felt strangely intrigued as his remarkably sparkling hazel eyes scanned my face and then locked onto my blue ones. A smirk uprose from his thinnish lips. This was a fine ordeal at first, but then I believed he was going to learn something about me simply by peering into my eyes; weird, is it not? I felt so vulnerable, but normal at the same instant.

His gaze, almost like a seduced glare, burned right through me. My brains melted under captivity. My eyes were left over. I was tempted to turn around, see an attractive female with colorful powder on her face. But I was leaning against the wall, and no Guest had been built into it.

It was compelling. Awkward and thought-provoking and confusing all at once, I wanted to escape the situation, however it was as though our eyes were incapable of any other movement. He had me under a spell, this foreign person. This boy was not attending the meals, protests, conferences, or ceremonies.

Or he was one of them, and he hid with the power of invisibility.

But that was impossible due to the Act of Atonement. I was the only surviving immortal. Beforehand, I did not know that Resistance was a valid status. However, I know now because Hostess Myra had brought forth the concept; she did not know that there were any leftovers of the Atoning.

But there were, and I am one. The Serum did nothing to me. Supposedly it had wiped out every inhuman creature in the Hex--it did not.

So the boy was an outsider. Should I have reported it? Yes, but did I? No.

I do not know why.

I really do not know.