She sat still with open eyes, having a desire for that which was currently absent from her environment. Her will was to have him, and in another context her will was to kill him. She had a peculiar beauty, one that you would not find in another woman's eyes. Nay, she was all in a league of her own. And for that I fell in love like so many others, but my love was all in vain. Had I prescience knowledge, I would not have knocked on her door to declare to her my love, even though when I did, I had but a penny of hope.
Her soft eyes which at times were hard towards me was very full of pity, coupled with a patronising care. In that moment I had hoped that she was a Delilah, namely one who would play me and pretend that she loved me, whereas she was altogether in the employment for my enemies gain. At least I would have thought in that moment that she loved me; and when her treachery was at last uncovered, my consolation would have been the remembrance and sweetness in kissing her. But nay, none of this was my portion save an offer to go for an ice cream to discuss some irrelevant scientific discovery which has nothing to do with my love of train-spotting.