I've come to hate my reflection, no matter the form it appears. Be it on the mirror or shadow, or even traits of me on another person.
I've never been followed before without me knowing so, it was strange hearing it but then again, it could be a lie, but, I took my time to look at his face but I got nothing, he seems to believe his guts. He suddenly gets up and walked to the table and picked up both his guns.
What do you think you are doing? I asked.
Checking if it's a threat, he plainly said.
We are all inside, how could you possibly know someone is outside watching?
It's a feeling but not entirely, I believe it's the same feeling you had when you walked in with both your guns pointed at me. You don't strike me as someone who dismisses his instinct and I believe that's what kept you alive all this year.
I got up from my seat and walked close to him, only inches separates us and we can see eye to eye. We are exactly the same height.
