The more she steals glances at them, something about the shooter makes her cheeks flush and her stomach tingle with trickling warmth, but within seconds she's overtaken with shame and guilt, what is happening to her? Looking at him fills her with dissonance; run for her life or entertain her intrusive thoughts and call attention to herself? " get a grip " she quietly whispers to herself Then the devil, yes the devil himself turns his head in her direction. [Contains Mature Content]