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“Oh, you get to practically touch me, but I don’t?” I say, snarky.

I don’t know where this confidence was coming from, but it was there.

Moving my hand, I just place it on his black shirt.

The heat warmed my hand from his body, and I flushed.

Then all of a sudden, his hand moves off of me, and grabs my hand that was on him.

I look up to see him shaking is head no at me.

Why was that hot?

Is something wrong with me?

“No?” I repeat.

He just shakes his head slowly.

He moves quickly, and I’m slammed against his body in one second. Shock registers my body and I open my mouth to protest.

But, its dies on me when his other hand grips my chin.

It was gentle, but forceful. As if making sure my attention was on him.

Why was I not screaming and running to call the cops?

Well, for starters, I wasn’t supposed to be here and I’m sure they have all the rules and protocols to prevent this from happening.

For seconds, I was scared, but I wasn’t.

It was weird.

He grips my chin and brings my face closer to his, forcing me to step on my tippy toes.

My breathing was heavy as I peered into the darkness of where the eyes should be.

“Who are you?” I breathe out.

The mask was creepy.

The vibes were unsettling.

But, I wanted to know who was wearing it.

He doesn’t move.

I reached up and tried to touch the mask when all of a sudden, he ripped me off of him. I stumbled back a little.

An alarm blares out again.

“SECOND HOUR”

Second hour?

Is it already nine?

Oh fuck.