It had been a week since she’d encountered him in the woods that morning, a week since he had addressed her directly. She had bumped into him in the corridor one day, and he had simply looked into her eyes and given her a greeting, “Little Crow,” in that deep voice of his that had left her hot. And over the week, he’d watched her. He’d been around her classes, going up the stairs when she’d been going down, passing through the hallways when she stopped to admire a sculpture, just been all around her more. She’d felt his eyes on her, she’d felt them a lot. She’d felt them in the dining room
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