Taking Sides Pt.1

God he was beautiful, standing there in the melancholy cold night. One hand was shoved in his pocket, the other grasped a cigarette which he placed tentatively to his lips and drew in a breath, exhaling slowly and quietly as he changed his stance. His almond colored eyes never wandered, as if he were always deep in thought. His toffee colored hair was curly and frazzled, and he hadn't shaved in a couple of days, but his sharp features made up for it.

He didn't speak a word as he tossed his now burnt out cigarette to the ground and walked inside, glancing my way as if beckoning me to go with him, and of course I obliged. The warmth of the house took over as we stepped inside and he poured me a glass of champagne. He then looked straight into my eyes, almost through me to the point where I felt invisible, watching me as I sipped my bubbling beverage.

"Who are you?" he wanted to know.
"Eva," I replied with slight hesitation, unsteady in the presence of the unfamiliar, "nice to meet you."
He kept his gaze steady and said calmly, "I'm Thomas. It's my pleasure," and that was all, at least for a while.

He crossed the room almost lazily and flipped on the TV to some bizarre reality show which he seemed to take no pleasure in. I watched him do it, hearing only the soft pounding of my own heart in my ears and the ticking of the old clock hanging above the fireplace. "Come sit," he said as he settled down on the couch, and I followed his lead without question. He should have known he was far too intriguing for his own good.

I sat awkwardly beside him, although I doubt the situation was as awkward for him as it had been for me. He was used to strangers, he lived among them, worked among them, and had trust in them where I hardly got to step outside of my own peaceful bubble of a life. I could feel those eyes burning into me with all their intensity and I finally mustered up the courage to look into his solemn face.

"Why have you come?" he asked. Oh, what a devilish question. He was good, very good...