• He couldn’t say for sure why he was intrigued. She wasn’t pretty, at least not by his standards. But still he found something about her alluring.
    Her hair was shaved completely, which he never understood as she would be much more attractive if she didn’t. Her skin was a light bronze color, muddled by scars and ink. She wore tank-tops—wife beaters, specifically—with worn out jeans. When it was colder she’d wear men’s sweaters. She certainly attracted a lot of attention from people who passed by the window of the coffee shop—and not necessarily good attention either. She never paid them any mind.
    But her most striking feature was, perhaps, her eyes. They were a bright turquoise color. Initially he had not seen them but over time he caught glimpses. They were so vibrant, he couldn’t stop staring.
    She looked at him as she went to take a sip of her coffee. She pursed her lips and glared, lowering the cup before she even took a sip.
    “What the Hell are you looking at?” Her tone held a dangerous edge. He flinched and looked away. He could still feel her eyes on him but he took to studying his napkin instead. He could hear her rustling with her things. She stormed passed him. Her expression was neutral but her eyes glinted with anger and annoyance.

    He waited anxiously each day for her to come into the coffee shop. She never did. He briefly wondered if she had found a new place to get her coffee.
    Two weeks later, however, he walked in and there she was. She was at her normal table, sipping a coffee and staring at her laptop like she did any other day. He almost smiled.
    He hesitated when he got to his table. He looked at her again. She gave no sign that she even knew he was there.
    Taking in a deep breath, he sat down in the seat across from her. She didn’t look up but he watched her eyebrow rise.
    “Hi, I’m Daniel,” He said politely. She didn’t acknowledge him. He looked down at the table with a sigh. Maybe this was a stupid idea…
    “I’m Evelyn. But if you ever call me Evelyn I’ll pour my coffee on your head. Call me Eve.” He had expected her to have a deeper voice than she did, or at least for there to be something special about it. There wasn’t. But he still liked it. It wasn’t unpleasant.
    They sat in silence. She sipped her coffee and he ate a muffin. He wanted to talk to her. Ask her questions. Talk to her about her job, her family, or anything really. For now, though, he’d be content with her name.

    Over time she began to open up to him. She told her about her family.
    She was an only child. She grew up with her father. He died in an accident and for the first time, her mother took an interest in her moving in. Eve spoke in a venomous tone when she spoke to her mother. She resented her for never really being there for her. She felt like her mother abandoned her in the care of someone else until she had no choice but to take her only daughter back into her care.
    Eve had a love for things that gave her a rush. She wasn’t into drugs. She liked the high that came with the fear of a horror film, or the adrenalin rush from riding a motorcycle or a rollercoaster. She liked the ability to retain her conscious being. “It’s something a drug could never give you,” She’d say.
    Daniel also learned little things about her. She liked the color orange, though it’d probably change in a week or so. She never went to college. She was indecisive. She had a lot of trouble making decisions. Her favorite technological object was a clock, the old fashion kind of clock with the cogs and gears. Eve liked the idea of possibility. Maybe some person was in control of everyone and everything. Or perhaps there is no end or beginning to time and we are all really moving backwards. It all just made him more interested in her.
    In return, he did give her little tidbits of information about himself. He was far more boring in contrast to her bizarre style of thinking. He was admittedly very close minded, at least until now.

    “I’m leaving. Tonight.”
    The statement was so straight forward that it took him a minute to process it.
    “You’re… what?”
    “I’m leaving the city. I can’t really tell you why. I just can’t stay here,” Her expression was neutral but he could hear the worry in her voice. Daniel frowned, reaching out to grab her hand.
    “Let me come with you.” He was surprised the words had come from his mouth. He couldn’t just up and leave everything. That would be stupid. She would probably say no anyway, being the solitary creature she was.
    But Daniel looked up, meeting Eve’s turquoise colored eyes. They were surprisingly vulnerable looking. Her expression was the softest that he had ever seen it.
    “Would you really do that?” She asked softly. His stomach fluttered. He nodded, throwing away all his previous reasons against it out the window.
    She stood up suddenly, “We need to leave now.”
    He looked at her in confusion.
    “I still have to pack and besides, do you even have a plan?” He said. She shook her head.
    “Look, we don’t have time.”
    Something about the whole situation didn’t seem right. She was acting strangely. He let it go though.
    “Alright.”
    He got up and followed her from the café. She checked all the pockets of her jacket, and then sighed in relief. She seemed very tense.
    Eve turned a corner, heading down an empty alley.
    “I know a short cut to the train station,” was her explanation. Her attention trailed over her shoulder, past Daniel. She grabbed his wrist, breaking into a sprint. He glanced back. They were being followed.

    Eve lead him into a more secluded, deserted area of town. She turned to him with an apologetic expression.
    “I was so happy when you said you wanted to come with me. It’s to dangerous though,” She looked around, checking to see if anyone was coming.
    “What’s going on?” He said, grabbing her chin gently. She shook her head.
    “I’m not getting you any more involved with me. You’ve been kind. You’re a great friend. If we were anyone else, I’d say maybe we could be even more—don’t give me that look, you make it obvious, you feel the same way—but I’m not someone else and we can’t,” She kissed him. It was brief. It was a distraction. She pulled a gun out of her pocket and pressed it against his gut. His heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way, “Goodbye, Daniel.”
    She pulled the trigger.