He Calls a Mansion, Not a House, but a Tomb

The teenaged girl looked out the window as the bus began to stir, making the scenery outside shake and drift away. Her earphones blared music of all sorts into her small, peirced ears as she tapped fiercely on her iPod with her thumb rythymically.
She warily glanced away from the window to see the stranger who sat in front of her stand up and head slowly and carefully towards the bus exit. She sighed to herself and looked back to the window.
From the front of the bus came a man dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket. Shoulder-length raven hair fell around his pale, round cheeks. He sat, replacing the person who had left just a second ago.
The girl with angry music in her ears glanced again from the window, her eyes wide and wondering, to take in the form of the new person. The black-haired man wore simple running shoes, his left shoe's laces undone. He read the newspaper indifferently, seeming to be uninterested. Irritated, wearing a dissapointed frown on his face, he folded the paper and set it on the empty seat beside him.
I turned my page, peering over at the two.
She girl seemed only 16-- 17 years old, at the most-- and yet so intrigued by this man who could not be younger than 26. My eyes sprang from her to the man in a second's turn. It was certainly not hard to be easily entranced by this man.
His eyebrows furrowed as he nibbled on his thumb nail. His unlaced shoe tapped rythymically on the floor in a beat known only in this man's mind. His eyes-- a hazel-green-- twinkled in the light illuminating the bus from behind rubbish advertisements.
I bit my lip, pretending to be interested in my stupid newspaper. I swayed, almost falling on my side as the bus came to an abrupt stop.
I watched as the girl curled a lock of her brown hair behind her right ear, picking up her napsack with her other hand. She stood up, flicking away hair trapped underneath the bag's strap. She took a deep breath and walked down the sparcely inhabited bus, standing on the step with a woosh as the doors opened and allowed her exit.
My eyes returned to the man. His eyes unfurrowed and laid upon me. I blinked, and looked away.
I've learned that's the only way to lose someone's gaze on a city bus: simply look away. Never stare. That's a golden rule on the bus.
I looked down to my chipped black nail polish. I folded the newspaper and set it on my lap.
I looked up and saw the man's hazel eyes.
"Next stop, Gerard Way" Said the mechanical woman on the bus's speaker.
The man chuckled, his teeth revealing their pearly white selves. I smiled.
He looked at me and I felt my cheeks burn like mad. I looked out the window.
For about 20 minutes, we played this game of "see-no-see" until the man pulled the stop request cord. I frowned, but stood up and held onto the balance pole. I wanted to observe this man further.
I let him walk ahead of me to the exit. A brief polite smile flashed towards me as I let him go first. I followed as he stepped down and onto the pavement.
I waited until he walked a full 5 feet ahead of me before I began to walk in the same direction.