a never ending story... maybe
she moves gracefully through the dancing bodies, never looking over her shoulder. she feels his eyes on her back. she knows he knows she's here. just his being here makes her slightly umcomfortable, and makes her hands shake, the only clue that she's stressed. the bathroom... opening the door, she slides in. she no longer feels his eyes, his seemingly all-knowing, dark eyes, on her back. she allows herself to breath and makes her hands stop shaking. looking at herself in the mirror, she doesn't see anger or fear. she sees a certain confidence, one that exudes power, self-assurance, and ease. truly, she has nothing to fear. relaxed and confident now, she walks back out the the club. he is looking at her again. she knows it. he sees her calm confidence, her self-assured aura. she doesn't need him anymore. he sees that, too. he feels undone. he looks away, gets up to leave. men can be evil, but a woman's gift to be cruel hurts worse. she watches him leave. in that ...