Beautiful
I swallowed. My mind raced. His dark hair, the colour of the darkest night sky. A dark trimmed beard with a slight bluish tint. His eyes were cold. Empty.
He was beautiful.
He held out his hand, waiting patiently for me to shake it, and in a robotic motion, I did so. My palm was sweaty, and I worried he’d pull his hand away, repulsed by my touch. I felt small with my hand in his. Like a child. Like a young girl that was attempting to enter a world she didn’t understand.
My breathing picked up, and it took a great strength to stop myself from becoming too anxious and having an attack right there and then.
‘Please,’ the man said. ‘Sit.’
Until next time,
