February came, after January flew by. Elsa continued coming after me, to such an extent that it was unnerving. Everyone, including her friends, were beginning to notice her odd obsession. They began to leave her slowly, so she wouldn't notice.
She didn't, for her eyes were always trained on me.
I got questioned by everyone. Questions about what had happened to make Elsa behave so strangely. I didn't have an answer, to be honest, so I never gave one.
But I was still unnerved by Elsa's eyes constantly following every movement I made. Briefly, I wondered if this was how she felt, with my eyes on her all the time.
But I knew my eyes were different when I looked at her. They were war. They were caring. Loving, because that was how I felt about her.
Hers were cold. Sharp like an ice pick. Hating and lusting. Bent and broken.
I should have known. I should have.
