I was used to men looking, no gawking, at me all the time. Most of the time I disregarded it as a primal, hormonal disposition that all men are seemingly born with. It was in their nature and they willingly cultivated it. I shrugged it off. I barely indulged into it unless I found the man mildly attractive. It would be a momentary fling and it would pass the next morning. Nothing serious. Barely a fantasy. But the way Killian was looking at me made me want to reconsider my jurisdictions. It was like he was patiently yet eagerly peeling off the layers of skin on my body, and not in a sexual way. He was looking beyond my body and trying to peer into my soul. It was unnerving, but I couldn't find a way to stop him. I didn't even bother trying. I almost welcomed the invasion with open arms, which was quiet out of character of me. It bothered me yet I couldn't shake the feeling that he had every right to do it; like it was some rite of passage to eventually get to me.