He came walking in my direction with his dark eyes staring

At my green eyes,

As though his dark soul was diligently waiting for my guards to be let down

To then suddenly engulf my bright soul.

He came walking in his dark, ripped and over-washed jeans, wearing a black jumper over a much wrinkled navy-blue shirt.

Hands in his pockets, walking towards me like he’d been around before, as if he knew all about all around.

He came walking as if he possessed the road, at a confident yet relaxed pace.

At no time did he look away.

I did.

I did when I noticed my soul slipping away through my pores and running in his direction.

I looked down and blushed.

I looked up, and there he was walking, getting even closer, with two wrinkles, one on each side of his lips giving away a poorly hidden smile.

And I knew I was damned. How could I ever resist temptation when all I was then was already his?

He passed by me and saw me freeze with some sort of wicked amusement. At not time did he look back.

T. Crompton, aka Lady Crompton

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