“She released his lapels and backed away again. Even though he had just told her to go, he followed her. His wanton and serpentine eyes tracked her as she backed out the glass doors. He slithered to the exit after her and still she felt the watching as she neared the car. Even when they drove away, she felt eyes on her through the snow as she rode in the passenger’s side. He loomed in the glass doorway, partially obscured by an advert for chewing gum, with his black coat and unwholesome too-blue eyes, fixed there, fixated on her with a stare that longed for things even she blushed to dream of. She felt him for miles. She heard the Russian words in her mind and told herself they meant everything she’d ever wanted to hear.” – Romona Simon, ‘Her Eyes Underwater’
