Aura // Larry Stylinson
His voice was barely audible to me. All I could hear was my heart beating too fast in my chest. "M-Mine?"
He gave me a small smile, but his eyes were distant. They stared into mine. I felt violated, as if he were reading me like an open book. I felt exposed.
"Yours is red," he finally said.
"Red," he confirmed. It was silent. He didn't offer me a definition of what a red aura meant. His eyes narrowed at me, seeing my confusion. "You seem perplexed, do you know what a red aura means?"
I slowly shook my head, our eye contact never breaking. The longer he held my gaze the more uneasy I felt; the more exposed.
He kept my gaze as he absentmindedly picked up the pen in his fingers. He explained without emotion, "A red aura can mean many things. Yours?" My eyes had drifted the pen he rolled between his pointer and thumb. "Yours is wavering ever so slightly. It's also tinted darker."
I tried to swallow but my throat was too dry. I could feel his eyes burning holes into my head. I kept my eyes trained on the pen moving slowly in his fingers. "That means you're nervous," he told me.
Chills exploded down my spine, my palms began to sweat, and I could feel my heart rate pick up. He added, "I'm use to that reaction though."
I sighed lowly, hoping he didn't notice, in relief. I flexed my fingers only now noticing how my hands were slightly shaking. I clasped them together under the table so he wouldn't notice. I felt the heat of his gaze slowly follow them.
After watching the area where they rested under the table, his gaze came back to mine. I quickly adverted my eyes back to the pen still rolling in his fingers.
I could feel my heart rate pick up again just from feeling his gaze as he watched me in silence. He abruptly said, "It also represents fear."
I felt the color drain from my face. The pen stopped moving. I looked up to meet his hard gaze. He had a thin smile, eyes glistening with mischief. "Do you fear me, Harry?"