“So...” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, averting his eyes from her own. “You like me, huh?”
She nodded, her dark curls bobbing with the movement. He smirked, and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
“Well, that’s interesting.”
She bit her lip, wondering what he meant by that. Was interesting good? Or was it...not so good?
The girl reached up to play with a lock of her hair, a nervous habit. The boy’s smile widened, and he shifted so that now his body was turned towards her.
They were both silent for a moment, both watching each other; his grey eyes were locked on her blue ones. A small grin played on the edge of his lips.
Then he whispered, “I bet you’re wondering what I mean by that.”
She opened her mouth to say something back, but then thought better of it and meekly nodded her head.
His grin widened.
“If that’s the case then, I’ll tell you.” Holding up exactly two fingers, his smile gone a little crooked, he said, “There are actually two things. One, I find it interesting that you like me because, to put it bluntly, I like you too.”
The girl inhaled softly, the flutter in her heart turning quickly into a lead weight, as she worried over what he was going to say next.
“And really, the second thing is only...” he said, pausing only to glance out the coffee shop’s window, at a couple passing by, holding hands on the New York street. “...I’m interested in seeing if you can still like me if I tell you about my...problem.”
“Problem?” she echoed, her tone expressing vapid bewilderment.
“Yes,” he said, nodding gravely. “I have problems. Many of them, actually. But I think you can handle most of them. It’s just one problem, really, that I think you might have some troubles coping with.”
She swallowed. “Um. Ok. What...is, ah, your....problem?”
He smiled sweetly then, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and looking at her through his lashes.
“You look nervous. It’s really nothing.” He reached over to trail a finger down the side of her face. “I just like to kill people, that’s all.”