I take a hesitant step back.

As if he knows, the effect he has on me, what he does to me, a coy smile plays on his lips. He has my heart in his very palm, clenching it in so many horrendous ways, I'm left defenseless and gasping for my sanity. My heart constricts, yet it flutters against the tight hold like an encaged butterfly.

I tell myself to stop, to move — anything but stay enraptured by his cunning, captivating eyes. I realise I'm actually relishing in the twisted delight he has in seeing me break before him; savouring every moment he spends looking at me like I'm the world. His world. I lose my ability to speak, standing in a trance as his spell washes over me, thick and heavy like the haze pouring into my head. Even the words that come to my head, begin to blur, until they're merely smudges of ink on paper.

"Stop it," I struggle to murmur, barely hearing the words slip out my lips.

He eyes me like a feline and its prey, encroaching it slowly, delicately. His eyes search mine. He sees right through all the fronts I put up, the empty pleading in my gaze. He revels in the helplessness that I am. 

His eyes narrow; the curl of his lips vicious. 

His words are laced with ice, "Why should I?"