She crooks her finger at him, making eye contact and offering him a smile.
"I know who you are, dear heart, and you can come sit by me if you wish. I’m afraid I’m not very good company, but I’m here.”
Quick and without prior anticipation, her eye snares his. Like fire, the lamentable consciousness that she's noticed him jolts down his spine, thrusting and digging into every nerve it passes and setting them ablaze. He abruptly straightens, eyes augmenting and pupils dilating with can only be labeled as utter horror.
He swallows, ball 'neath alarmingly sallow flesh rising and falling swiftly. Rigid fingers flex with great strain as he shifts his gaze, looking left and right, assuring that she was indeed looking at him. Grinding his teeth, he returns his attention to her, still not saying a word. How could he when he suddenly felt as if his mouth was filled with cotton?
