Your Mother Warned You Of Those Eyes

So you've seen him, sitting all alone and by himself in the corner of the room. His fine pinstripe suit and his curled, wild bright blond hair are what caught your eye, no? How about his chin... Or his face? Chiseled so exquisitely, as if by Athene herself, or at least Persephone. Some woman must have something to do with it. And his eyes, those steaming, maddening, feral eyes; they don't seem to match his outfit at all. Do you remember those soft Spring days, wherein you would sit with your mother and father on the verdant grass and he would regale you with stories of wartime Britain and your mother would relax with a long, spindly cigarette?
'Those men and their ways / blue eyes lost in a gaze,' she would sing. Oh but sing more Mama, sing more; 'but he'll trap you in lies / just beware of those eyes...' Bravo Mama, bravo! We would all cheer at her as she sang.
And boy, was she right. Be careful of him, I've seen his sort around here before. He'll charm you within an inch of your life and lynch your heart on his index finger, then he'll proceed to toss you around until you can't take anymore. Let's just say I know about this from personal experience.
If you think you really like him then by all means go and speak to him, but I won't be around to pick up the pieces...

But you can always spend the night at my house if he doesn't want to take you home. After all, your mother warned you he was trouble.