Listen to my Enemy?
I paced in my bedroom back and forth. I thought running into Mateo would make things clearer in terms of figuring out this whole Proliator ordeal. Yet I was still trying to figure out who the Proliator was. Who was he? I knew for a fact the Proliator had to be Dastan or Mateo. Judging by the nice aura coming from Mateo, it was more likely to be him since Dastan was…well, Dastan. I knew that Mateo acted like he didn’t know me, but when he touched me, his eyes produced the same hazel as the Proliator’s when we touched. The only things absent were the electrifying feeling we usually had when we touched and of course his attractive accent that was clearly a fake (and clearly preferred over the aggressive New York twang). No wonder why he never really used British terms or slang…just the chang
- Writer
