"Do you trust me?" He asked me, still staring at the door. I wanted to tell him that I didn't just because of who he was, irregardless of the fact that he could read my thoughts and discover otherwise.
For the longest time I did not see his face. Only his eyes would tell me everything he did he had most certainly intended to happen; that only made him all the more terrifying, his very being leaking in to each tiny crevice in the confines of my conscience until I was completely consumed by him.