He felt a tremor running down his spine. The multitudinous primal mental processes that made him operate unoptimally to his liking effortlessly classified the tremor as eerie, for he had never experienced such a feeling in his spine.
Then he thought, eerie wasn't the right word. Things eerie were spooky standalone events in uneventful contexts; a vase drop that breaks the silence of night, the appearance of a big mole on a baby's forehead, but not this. This tremor was out of fear and crisis; it was terror metastasizing.
He hated his instincts at that moment for their inaccuracy. And he hated himself for hating his instincts at this moment, for the timing of his inner confusion couldn't be worse. Suddenly, his blank stare towards her was filled with her, and eventually his, presence.
Their eyes met.
He stood up, shrugged. He reminded himself to stop romanticizing someone who he hasn't met, then recognized the futility of his self suggestion, and tried to find much needed clarity of mind in a deep breath.
