«Haughty eyes, a lying tongue [...]» (Proverbs 6:17)
She was looking at me from across the room. Lazy smile and heated stare; her face was as fresh as a morning rain. Eyes like melted iron, lips rosy like the blush on her cheeks, a drink of liquid gold on her hand swaying inside the glass in pace with the movements of her arm.
The whole scene felt surreal, as if from a dream. The colors were too bright, the movements too graceful. The girl couldn't be real.
The moment our eyes crossed, she moved her face and looked at me through her eyelashes. When our eyes held each other for more than a second, her stare drifted elsewhere. Her smile widened.
When I lost the contact of her stare, I felt like the light of her eyes were a secret too precious to give away so soon. A secret I was suddenly dying to know. How fascinating everything seemed once curiosity was involved. And how easy was for beautiful things to spike curiosity.
She knew even from a distance that I was hooked and she seemed to be enjoying her easy prey. I didn't dwell on that thought for long; playing hard to get was never something interesting to me.
It's obvious to say that I approached her as soon as I could. That I stood up and walked to where she was sitting. That I took a seat next to her and greeted her with a charming smile. How foolish of me to try and charm her. She had already charmed me.
I cannot recall correctly what we spoke about, but I remember the sound of her voice with vivid clarity. Like velvet, like hot chocolate. A voice meant for telling lies, tongue sprayed in poison.
I told her I wasn't looking for a new mistake; she promised she wasn't one. I always knew she was lying and I never truly cared.
Sometimes deceit held so many promises.