Just Looking

    She’s looking at me again.  She probably has no idea I know she’s looking at me.  She’s probably not even looking directly at me.  She’s looking at me out of the corner of her eye or something.  I wish she would just stop.  I already feel crappy enough without having to feel her eyes boring holes in my back.  Actually, I’m not sure I have much of a back left to bore holes in, the way she’s been staring at me every single day for the past month.  God, I wish she would stop looking at me.
 

    He still won’t look at me.  He probably hasn’t made full eye contact with me since he pulled me out of the car that night we got back from the Hell dimension some people so cheerily call Pylea.  He probably doesn’t want me to see him.  I mean, of course I can see him, but he doesn’t want me to really see him.  I just keep staring at him, hoping that maybe I’ll catch him off his guard and get to look into his eyes.  I never thought I would be so desperate to know what’s going on behind those eyes of his.  God, I wish he would look at me.
 

    She’s stopped.  I can’t feel her eyes on me.  I thought this moment would be more relieving than it is.
 

    I don’t believe this.  I’m crying.  Not enough to make my mascara run.  I would never let this get that far.  This is so stupid.  He could be turning around right now, looking at me, and here I am!  Here I am…
 

    When is she going to start looking at me again?  Maybe something is wrong.  She’s still there, sitting at her desk.  So why isn’t she looking at me?  Maybe I should check on her, see if something really is wrong.  No, wait.  She’s looking at me again.  Funny, I didn’t think I would be anything but uncomfortable about it.
 

    Does he know I’m staring at him?  Knowing my luck, he does.  He’s always known, and he’s getting angry about it with every passing second.  Stupid, Cordelia.  Aggravate a vampire in mourning.  Marvelous plan.  God, I’ve got to stop looking at him.
 

    I don’t know what she wants.  I wish she would just say something.  But maybe she thinks I don’t want her to talk to me.  That’s it.  I’ve scared her into silence with my brooding.  I haven’t spoken to her in days, and I don’t know that I can remember many things she’s said to me.  I don’t know if I can even look her in the eye after the way I’ve acted.  Nice job, Angel.  Frighten the ones you trust when you need them the most.  Wonderful plan.  God, I wish I could look at her.
 
 

    Oh, God.  He’s looking at me.
 

    Oh, God.  She’s still looking at me.