She looked at him. Straight at him. He didn't recognize the expression behind her brown eyes. He had come to expect the fear he always saw, and although it looked different in everyone, it was always fear. Sometimes the fear was defiant, but this was not that. She was looking into him, trying to find something, and he hated it. He went from exhilarated, to pure anger; hatred for these eyes. How dare she look. No one ever looked like that.
Sometimes they looked with hatred. Sometimes as if they were trying to remember his features for a sketch artist at some later point they would never reach, but most often, they didn't look at all. They ran. They struggled. They hid.
Never this.
His insides begin to tremble as she wouldn't take her glance away, and then she spoke.
YOU ARE READING
The Nothing
Teen FictionTwo people both separated and aligned by two worlds and spaces, by light and dark.
