𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲 ❞

one ; pretty like poetry

Ben's ::

He sat there, all by himself. His bangs gently fell upon his eyes, and he brushed them aside. His eyes seemed to be upon the book, but his mind was occupied with the one who'd left the seat next to him unoccupied. He awaited the person's presence, and his eyes kept darting to the door every now and then. He fiddled with the corner of the pages, feeling agitated and lonely. He was about to leave. And just then, the boy walked in.

It was a bright afternoon; sunshine streaked the wooden library through the huge windows, over the long sets of bookshelves, the rows of tables, and the boys. It was an old construction, yet, the young students found it enchanting, pinning them to the solitude and peace the library had to offer. There were huge shelves of leather and cloth-covered books, and the tables were arranged in the adjacent half of the library. The roof was curved, and most of the bookshelves were attached to it.

At the far end of the library, near the door, sat the librarian. He greeted the boy with a smile, and Ben's heart almost did a backflip. His companion was here. He sat up straight, fixing his shirt and his bangs. He believed he looked presentable, wearing a beige-white checkered shirt over a plain white t-shirt, paired with black jeans.

It took all of him to resist looking up. The boy scuffled with a few books, silently drew out the chair opposite Ben, and sat down. He opened the book and began reading. Only then did Ben lift his eyes, and took in how beautiful the boy looked. He had big doe eyes, with black orbs shining bright. His lips were small and pouty, with a sharp cupid's bow and upturned corners. His hair was a fading shade of blue, and was slightly frizzy, falling upon his silver-rimmed round glasses. He wore a blue woolen sweater over a cream-colored shirt. His eyes were moving along the lines of the chemistry manual he was skimming.

Ben smiled and looked down.

If only he'd been looking at the boy some more, he would've noticed the other guy look up and gaze at him. The young man took in the other's soft brown eyes focused on poetry, his full pinks, and his fiddling long fingers. He too smiled content and went back to his subject.

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