In which Saskia Martinez met Eros, the god of love himself, and got her heart entangled in a major love disaster. Except nobody told her the supposed mythical being was a teenage boy wearing a ripped varsity shirt, who dangled men in the air-by the...
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WHENEVER SHE WROTE scenes of her stories with murders, Saskia always imagined what it'd feel like if she was at the actual scene.
Now, after she just witnessed one, she decided no amount of imagination could prepare her for the terrifying experience.
Her heart was pounding on her chest, fast and painfully hard, as she watched with wide eyes the dead body of the man on the ground. She was screaming and yet... and yet, nobody seemed to hear her.
The murderer's back stiffened at the sound of her voice, and when he slowly turned around, Saskia could only put a hand over her mouth in fear. She started shaking, seeing his fully turned body just meters away.
The man took a step forward; she fell a step back.
Panic crept up her chest, but for the life of her, she couldn't bring her legs to move and run. She was stuck on the spot. The man continued to walk toward her in slow, agonizing steps, as though he had all the time in the world, and she felt like a mouse cornered.
Am I going to die? Saskia thought in terror. Oh, god. I am going to die! But even panic couldn't mobilize her body.
She took in the appearance of the murderer, who was now inching very near to where she was standing.
He was tall and—and young, that was the first things that registered to her when she focused her eyes on his approaching figure. No more than a year or two older than her, and he might even be just in high school, if the ripped high school varsity shirt was anything to go by.
But it wasn't what caught her attention entirely.
It was his... aura. Looking at him felt like being trapped in some sort of trance and all she could do was watch him approach her step by step.
He was a murderer—for crying out loud—she should be running for her life! But when the guy stopped only a meter away from her, Saskia caught her breath in her throat, eyes glued on his face. He was watching her just as intently, with piercing eyes that made her internally shiver.
She had stopped shaking now, only to be replaced with an inexplicable emotion, rendering her even more helpless than she already was.
Ice. That was the first thing that came to mind when their eyes met. Ice-cold green. Devoid of any other emotion—a pair best fitted for a cold-blooded murderer. But darn it, she couldn't take her eyes off him because... because she felt weightless, like a feather swirling in the night air as she continued to stare back at him. And he... he was—beautiful.
Saskia shook her head mentally. No, not beautiful. He was... more. Beyond beautiful. Almost angelic. Surreal. The kind of beauty inscribed in the pages of books, but no words or imagination could ever bring justice to it.
As much as she wanted to slap herself (and she really should) for thinking of such things about her potential murderer—even when her life was dangling over the edge of a knife—her hand dropped to her side to reveal a mouth hanging open in awe.
