“I'm sorry to ask this, but please come closer,” he directs me. I hesitate, my breathing speeding up. I don't like him this close, I want to run and hide. Something inside me decides to trust him, however, so I make up the distance I slid back, plus a little more. I'm practically cross eyed when I look him in the eyes. He nods his approval, a tiny gesture that, to someone who didn't know what we're discussing, could mean anything. I notice that the angle at which he's standing would make it difficult for on lookers to read his lips.

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