Page 149 of Psycho Pack

Not as bad as the feeling of being watched.

Eyes that burn into me as we reenter the dining hall.

Only one thing keeps me from bolting.

Ivy's small hand in mine.

Her touch anchors me.

The plush carpet muffles our footsteps.

But each step feels like thunder in my chest.

We near our seats.

Eyes.

So many eyes.

All on me.

On my exposed face.

My scars.

My monstrous sharp teeth.

I fight the urge to roar.

To snarl at the staring attendants.

To prove I'm the beast they think I am.

But Ivy's grip tightens.

I swallow the growl building in my throat.

For her.

Always for her.

We reach our chairs.

Mine looks impossibly delicate.

Like it might shatter under my bulk.

Lower myself carefully.

Too aware of how I dwarf everything around me.

How I don't belong in this perfect place.

Ivy settles beside me.

Her presence soothes the beast within.

The beast I am.