The Welcome.

There wasn't anything that special about the girl standing before me. I suppose I shouldn't call her a 'girl' since she was in her early thirties but there was something about her. Her face was long, her eyes were down turned, her top lip was smaller than her bottom, her face had many small moles on it and her nose had a bit of a hump. But there was something about the pale shade of her skin, the way her short teal hair hung over her midnight blue eyes that seemed to hold a sparkle of something I couldn't put my finger on. . .also the way her lips looked so innocent as her mouth hung open as if she didn't know what she was going to say. Well after what I had told her, how would you react? How could she find anything to say after that threat? She stared at me but I couldn't place that look, fear obviously, but what else? There was something else. Not surprise. She didn't look as if she would runaway either, which I thought odd. Was she welcoming this? Welcoming me?