His tone is unemotional, but I can sense the pain underneath. "It happened a long time ago."
I nod sympathetically. I genuinely feel bad for him, and I don't try to hide the glimmer of tears in my eyes. I'm too soft—Leah says that every time I cry at a depressing movie—and I can't help the sadness I feel at his suffering.
It ends up working in my favour because his expression warms slightly. "Don't pity me, my pet," he says softly. "I've gotten over it. Why don't you tell me about yourself instead?"
I blink at him slowly, knowing that the gesture draws attention to my eyes. "What would you like to know?" Didn't he find out everything about me in the process of stalking me?
He smiles. It makes him look so beautiful that I feel a tiny squeezing sensation in my chest. Stop it. You're the one seducing him, not the other way around.
"What do you like to read?" he asks. "What kind of movies do you like to watch?"