Ella’s POV:

The train starts up, slowly, then faster. I sit down in my little booth and open up my new book, starting to read. Before I can even read the first paragraph, I see a pair of shoes in front of me. I look up and meet the orange eyes of a young boy. He cannot be more than 16 years old. His hair is pure orange and he is wearing a sky-blue sweater. To match the sweater, he wears a pair of black jeans, his hands shoved in their pockets as he gives me a small smile. “This seat taken?” He asks, moving his head to point at the seat next to me. I shake my head, not able to trust my mouth to say the right words. He nods, a shine in his eyes as he sits down next to me. I nod at him once more before I start to read again. Not even five minutes later, he is hovering over my shoulder, reading along with me. I do not mind it, except for how close he is to me. I can feel his breath on my neck as his chest rises and falls. The train suddenly gets overwhelmingly warm and a bit too comfortable. My eyelids start to droop and before I know it, I’ve falling asleep.

UNKNOWN POV:

The train started slowly, then faster. I board the train as I look for my next victim. And then I see her. She is reading a book; it seems that she had just started. I cannot see the title; the book seems to not have one. She is wearing a black sweater over a t-shirt that I did not immediately recognize. She had a scarf wrapped around her neck, which I assumed had to be hiding a mischievous smile. I approach her, a feeling of sudden nervousness overcoming me. I stand in front of her for almost a full minute before she looks up to meet my eyes. Her eyes are a beautiful caramel brown, tinted with just a hint of light green which I could get lost in for days. I regain my composure, force a small, hopefully friendly smile and ask, “This seat taken?” She hesitates a slight second before shaking her head. She stares at me with her wide eyes as I take a seat next to her. Soon, she redirects her attention back to her book. I berate myself for choosing her, knowing that I will hate myself for what I am about to do. I scoot over towards her silently in the booth we are sitting in and lean my head over her shoulder, curious as to what she is reading. As she reads, I read along with her. Not too soon after we are reading together, I feel her stiffen in realization. I even out my breathing, knowing she will be listening to each breath I take. Like I had planned, she soon falls asleep, leaning on me.