I looked at the same familiar black eye patch on his eyes, and the normal onyx eye, I would recognize them from anywhere.
He smiled, faintly, revealing his white teeth, this time, his grills weren’t there.
He extended his tattooed hand that was in a freshly sewed suit, yet they still managed to peep through the blazer coat.
I knew he’d not realized me, because after years of trafficking girls, I was pretty sure that tgere were many faces to be seen, and not remember.
These kinds of people never recalled faces, because I’d bet that they do not want hauntings of their lives.
With so much hesitation, I reached for his hand, immediately it touched mine, I felt disgusted that I was touching the hands of a blood stained man. I wondered how many triggers he’d pulled with the same hand.
