Dexter sat back, thinking. Somehow she knew about him. And he didn't care. It didn't make him worry about exposure as it should have. It didn't do anything that it normally did. No thoughts of prison, court. The death penalty. No, he was actually glad she knew, however she had managed to know.
"Very dark." He agreed. And that dark passenger licked at the edges of his thoughts. Trying to tell him something. That she was the same, maybe? That's how she knew? But he wasn't paying much attention to anything inside of himself at the moment, aside from the strange sensation of feeling... and what was he feeling? He longed to touch her. To take care of her. To be next to her always.
Was this what greeting cards were talking about when they spoke of love?
Unable to control himself, Dexter pressed his face into the hand that touched it. Her hand was nice.
"I've never lost my way." He said finally. Assuring her that there was nothing in life that could possibly veer him off the path. Not even her knowing.
"I'm Dexter." He realized he didn't know her name, and she didn't know his. That was such a travesty in his mind. They should know each other inside and out. Share everything.