He locked eyes with me, probing into my every thought. I couldn't look away, much as I tried. His questions were dull noise in comparison, and I ignored them to look at the eyes locked with mine. I'd never done this, not once. Catching someone's eyes leads to talking, leads to being noticed. It felt like jumping into a cold pool; the fear, the shock, the joy, all washing over me and making me shiver.
Then, ignoring every instinct I had to run, to run and never come back, I took his hand, and we ran. I could feel my heart in my mouth, the acrid taste of fear curling around my tongue. We reached a door, smooth, brushed steel, and I tried to pull my hand back as a burning sensation ripped through it. He gripped tighter, pulling me through the door, and my head exploded into riotous sound and colour, overwhelming my tongue, and pulling me to the ground.
The voices, always the voices. I could feel them building, one by one, ripping into my head, screaming, louder and louder. I tried to beat them out this time. I had to preserve my secret. I had to. Nothing would be worse than him knowing. The screams morphed and blended with loud, hysterical laughter, over and over and over, pressing at my skin until I felt blood well on my cheekbone. My mouth opened, and the words flowed out of my mouth, filling the air with unearthly screams. My mind skittered away from any conscious thought until I came around, breathing heavily, with the eyes once more fixed onto mine, his legs crossed by my shoulder. I reached up, and felt a pillow beneath my head. He had a hand to my cheek, stemming the blood, and, I felt as I reached to lift it, holding it in position. I closed them again, trying to block him out. I had been a fool. Sympathy will only bring him closer, and bring him into harm's way. Kindness is wasted here.