He’s too busy invading my space, staring at me in a way that makes my toes actually curl. His eyes are blazing white until spots of pink start to flutter through them, and my mouth is hanging open in dumbfounded shock. I can’t get past his pink-and-white eyes ringed in heavy black lashes, looking like fireworks. Staring into them directly is like staring at the sun during an eclipse. I feel . . . woozy.
