If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.

Κυριακή, 4 Οκτωβρίου 2015

Blue Eyes

"I'm an iceberg", he says. "Impenetrable."

He fixes his gaze on my face; he looks at me with those piercing blue eyes, straight in the eye, while his back stiffens and his neck kinda tightens up.

I understand he is serious.

He actually earns a little more of my respect.

I lean forward. I'm not intimidated by his cool exterior. Ι return the penetrating gaze.

"You have no idea what you're getting into", I say.

He sits back in his chair, slightly tilts his head and gives me a side look, grinning, as if he's sizing me up.

"There's just something about you kid" he says.

You might be the iceberg blue eyes, but you have no idea how deep I run, I think to myself as I bite into my drinks ice cube.

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