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When he removed his arm from her forehead, Alice stood still for a few seconds. The hand around her neck was getting loose too, which she interpreted as a reckoning of her submission. She hesitated before turning towards him. She was afraid of what his face might reveal; of what reasons might move that boy she knew so well to trap her in a spring afternoon when nobody else was at home. Finally, she turned her head and found his eyes. It was him, the him she was so familiar with, no doubt about that, but at the same time the person she was dealing with was a stranger of a rare kind. He was an absolute of danger and control, of strength and power, and she realized that nothing about him had ever been known to her. She looked at him once and for all. A few hair locks had fallen on his face partly covering the green eyes and his perfect roman nose. His lips were full and sensual, sealed against her need to hear any sound that could appease her embarrassment. With no facial hair at all.

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