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A loud, sharp intake of breath came from me.
What were seconds in reality felt like hours that never seemed to pass.
A tall man was inside of the glass door. His dark hair fell just below his shoulders, his face and arms inked. If he wanted another tattoo on his arm, he couldn’t fit it. I couldn’t see his skin at all.
But it was his eyes that truly made me afraid. It was fear like I’d never felt before, consuming me in a split second, and had me in its cage that I couldn’t escape from.
They were in a soothing color of sea green, hidden behind his thick, long eyelashes that matched the shade of his hair. Yet, nothing about the way he stared at me was soothing. His eyes were sleepy, with an undoubtable amount of evil behind them. He didn’t try to hide his sinister intent — his smirk proved it all.
His lips were plump, and once he showed me his perfect teeth, dimples appeared.
His smile made my skin crawl.
No one else seemed to exist — all he was looking at was me.
He barely blinked, and when he did, it made my heart sink to my feet. He was looking at me, up and down, way too many times for me to count or remember. But then, he took a step back.
Even if he backed up all the way to Narnia, I wouldn’t have felt at ease.
My knees trembled, and I could no longer hold the weight of my body.
I slumped to the ground, anxiety filling my veins. Not once did I dare to look away. I had a feeling if I did, he would somehow break out of the cell and do something to me. He’d do things I couldn’t even begin to imagine.
To my utter horror, he tilted his head to the side, licked his bottom lip and winked at me.
And that was the last thing I remembered seeing — the threat behind his eyes.
This wasn’t over. He wanted something from me, I could tell.
I was never visiting another prison again.
III
MICAH
Micah,
I’m a big fan of yours. I truly believe that your art is unique, and that as someone who works in the same field as you, I can completely understand the meaning behind your creations. They’ve captivated me entirely, and I continuously look for more. I’m sure you have something else prepared.
You’re one of a kind.
I hope you don’t find it too bold that I took it upon myself to write to you, but if I’ve sparked your interest, I shall wait for your response.
Sincerely,
Storm Matthews.
My eyes narrowed at the piece of paper in my hands. I’d been staring at it for the past two weeks, re-reading it for hours on end. It was the first time someone had written anything to me, whether it be good or bad, however, this situation was just ridiculous.
The envelope was pink.
As in, bright, neon, blinding pink.
What the fuck did she mean she was a fan of mine?
More importantly, she worked in the same field? Was she bold enough to send those words to a prison with maximum security? Not only that, but she also sent two pictures of herself, her name and a book she’d written.
I couldn’t stop staring at the beauty.
