Who's he?

“I came to see Nova,” I said, squatting in front of him. The nearer I was to him, the more I felt familiar with him, like I had seen him somewhere. His tousled hair and lovely grey eyes made me want to reach out to touch him, and when I did, he avoided my touch by taking some steps back, still glaring at me.

“Who is she to you?”

Oh, my. What an elegant gentleman he is. I half expected him to run for the front door, not to challenge me with a gaze that looked so familiar, it was surreal.

Shaking my head at the odd thought that had just crossed my mind, I held the young man's gaze.

“How old are you?” I demanded, not answering his questions. As much as the ludicrous thoughts in my head sounded as stupid as I tagged them, I couldn't shake off the impression that somehow, the boy was close to me, which was why I asked to know his age.

He raised a suspicious brow at me, his mouth in a pout as he took some steps back. Once again, his gaze went over to the front door, and I realized so