Stop
Stop.
Stop.
Just because she's there doesn't mean you have to look at her. Doesn't mean you have to kiss her, sleep with her.
Doesn't mean you have to want her.
She brushes past you, pretending you're not even there. Your skin tingles where her shoulder brushed yours. Her hand wraps, tight, around your wrist and you know that she's seen you.
She wants to seduce you.
You want her to seduce you.
Stop.
"Hello Zoe." Her voice is soft, controlled, and her accent doesn't prick at your nerves like it used to. You've grown accustomed to it. You like it.
You want her to whisper in your ear. You want her to tell you dirty secrets, things you shouldn't know.
Stop.
Stop.
She wants to bite you, chew on the fleshy bits. She wants to swallow you whole, make a meal out of you.
She'll hurt you.
You won't be able to walk away.
Stop.