I once met a boy, whose face was as white as snow and had eyes that were as blue as the ocean. His gemlike eyes glistened so bright as if they were stars in the midnight sky, and when he shut them, everything that ever seemed luminescent became faint. They were like lanterns to me: a source of light that is both fascinating yet temporary. A light that escorts one through a foggy forest and then leaves them for naught while in the middle of it.

Fear was his name.

When he first introduced himself to me, I thought it was strange. How could someone so beautiful be so scary? I didn’t understand it. Whenever I look in his eyes, all I ever see is myself beaming while floating in the depths of his tender orbs that contain both sunshine and darkness at the same time.

Fear himself was a very eccentric person. He only ever appeared when he wanted to and disappeared so often that one can never really tell if he was there at all. When he did appear, he only ever lingered for a few minutes, but the sensation he instills within those he appears before when he leaves is akin to ice touching your skin. It numbs you, and yet there’s no pain because you can’t perceive it. It’s painless, so you foresee more, and while he does come back, he doesn’t come back for long.

He had captivating features. His eyelashes were astonishingly long, and it took everything for me to force myself not to touch them–to assure myself that he’s real, and yet with every question, I g