He entered my apartment. Casually, like he'd been there a million times before, and maybe he had. He wore black sweats and a hoodie, the hood pulled up over his head so I couldn't see his face. He didn't look nearly as dangerous as he was. But I wasn't fooled.
I stayed still on the bed, watching him as he approached me. The only light in the room was the dim lamp on my nightstand.
He came closer and crawled onto the bed, sitting on his knees in front of me. He reached out a tentative hand and cupped my cheek.
I clenched my eyes shut, unable to look at him. His thumb ran across my lips and I shuddered. He was too close, far too close, but I didn't dare move away.