He was standing ten meters away. At first glance, time seemed to slow; everything blurred except for him. My eyes were fixed on his face.
His hair was whitish, silver-toned, and flowed like silk. Every gust of wind caught it, making it shimmer; his hair glowed almost as brightly as moonlight. The lines from his cheeks to his jaw were sharp yet elegant; his lips were thin and well-shaped, as if carved from a statue. His face was symmetrical; his eyes were like jewels, drawing attention to the center of it all.
The pallor of his skin was not a sickly weakness but carried the air of noble grace — not death, but the clarity of a prince stepped out of a palace.
His eyes… those eyes instantly captured all attention: ice-blue, so cold that their gaze pierced right through me. Deep as the ocean, sharp as a blade, they were both captivating and terrifying; my heart raced at a single glance. Each beat echoed in my chest, merging with the howl of the wind.
He wore a black shirt and black pants; simple, yet that simplicity contrasted with his elegance and presence. It was as if he needed nothing; just by standing, he commanded the space around him.
My heart pounded. My palms were damp, and sweat beaded on my forehead. The marks from last night's fight were still there; fresh scratches on my arm, dried blood on my shoulder. Each step made those wounds throb, cutting off my breath even more. Why was someone like him here? Or was it because of me? I wondered. I had to run.
I paused for a moment, then reflexively bolted. The soil crushed beneath my feet as my breath came in ragged gasps, my chest burning. As I ran, the pain in my arm and shoulder sharpened, growing almost unbearable. My steps faltered; eventually, I had to stop. I pressed my hands to my knees and took a deep breath, easing the ache just slightly.
I looked back — he was there. Not where he had stood before; only the rustle of dry grass carried by the wind remained. Fear gripped me, and after catching my breath, I turned forward again — and he was standing right in front of me, looking straight at me.
Our eyes never left each other. I tried to retreat quickly, but my foot caught on the rocky ground, and I stumbled unsteadily. My knees hit the earth, my hands scooped up soil. The wounds flared with pain, my breath burned my cheeks — yet he remained.
At that moment, he offered a small smile and said, "Hello." He simply watched, but that gaze was powerful enough to make me stop, even though I still wanted to run.
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