Until now, she'd never thought of herself as pretty. Not in the conventional way that her sisters were. She was unfortunate enough to have her father's nose, as steep as a ski slope, and her hair wasn't thick and glossy as spun gold like her mothers, but black and frizzy.
Glancing at the man, she smiled coyly. Flirting didn't come naturally to her. In fact, social interaction of any kind had never been her forte. She much preferred the quietness of her attic bedroom. No company except for her cat Tabitha. She had been happy that way, for years. People made her nervous.
Being here now, though she felt a feeling she had never before known. No matter how she tried to supress it, she couldn't hide it completely. It was overwhelming every fibre of her being.
Inhaling deeply, she looked at him. His dark hair, his chestnut coloured eyes, the strong shape of his jaw, the defined muscles visible through his shirt. He was gorgeous. The way he looked at her ignited a fire within. She knew this feeling well enough to know it could never lead to anything good. Someone always got hurt.
Filled with sad regret, she shook her head, her mind made up. She had to leave. Now.
"Please, Leila." he reached out now, taking her hand. "Stay."
His eyes were filled with a warm pleading she couldn't resist.
Sadly resigned to what was going to happen, she sat back down and waited. Waited for the inevitable to happen, sad in the knowledge she had to kill him. Sometimes instinct was too strong to fight.