Copyright You saw me before I saw you. You saw me before I saw you. In the airport, that day in August, you had that look in your eyes, as though you wanted something from me, as though you’d wanted it for a long time. No one had ever looked at me like that before, with that kind of intensity. It unsettled me, surprised me, I guess. Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too. You blinked quickly when I looked at you, and turned away, as if you were nervous … as if you felt guilty for checking out some random girl in an airport. But I wasn’t random, was I? And it was a good act. I fell for it. It’s funny, but I always thought I could trust blue eyes. I thought they were safe somehow. All the good guys have baby blues. The dark eyes are for the villains … the Grim Reaper, the Joker, zombies. All dark. I’d been arguing with my parents. Mum hadn’t been happy about my skimpy top, and Dad was just grumpy from lack of sleep.
