There’s something in his face, his eyes, that is so alluring that I can’t quite manage to catch my breath. But he frightens me, too. In his eyes is the look of a man who sees all and knows all. A man who would stop at nothing to get his way. In spite of the clear danger he poses to me, some part of me wants desperately to speak to him, if only to ask how he came to be this way. How can I cease to care what the world thinks of me? How can I become like you?
