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I find myself sometimes, staring. I never mean to really, it's something that sneaks up on me like a common thought would. I don't know if he realise that I do that, and if he does he certainly never say anything about it. I never fully get him, and a part of me never desire to. Perhaps it's just the secret that he is that allures me, which draw me to him. But I don't think a secret can be addicting the way he is. Anyway, when I catch myself in the act of staring I always get annoyed with myself. It is not just the fact that it is improper to stare; it is more what the resting gaze really signifies. It has never been a strength of mine to