Ben made me laugh. I was attracted to his attraction for me: the way he smiled for instance, whenever he saw me, that goofy kind of grin that hijacks the face of the helplessly smitten.
I wanted blood to signify life, not death.
I was grateful to Ben the way you are grateful to someone who is unexpectedly kind.
I instinctively knew that he was dangerous, in the way that intensely alive people sometimes are.
