L'Italia viene a Jozi
I drawled out in a soft whisper, using his first name purposefully.
He stopped drinking, placing the bottle on the floor and placed his elbows on his knees, putting his hands together as he bent down to look at me, "I could say your beauty, or the way you kill, but honestly," he gave me a sinister look, "it's those damned eyes of yours. The look of death in them, the emptiness in them and the little bit of crushed innocence. Your eyes, Unicorn, they stir up my loins," his eyes became animalistic, like he was trying to prey on me, "and when my loins stir, for your sake, Unicorn, I pray you know you're about to have go on one rough ride."
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