Mixed emotions

143

"What's so good about her anyway?"

That's the question I often ask myself before.

Before.

But now I have my answers.

Her habits,

Like scratching her nose lightly,

Frowning her perfect thin eyebrows when she's curious,

The annoying sound of her snapping fingers while thinking,

The way she rolled her awfully- enchanting eyes when she sees me,

Her sweet voice that irritated me but calmed me at the same time.

And specially,

Her soft hand that slapped me hard,

Her emotions, that I believe, contained some sorcery because of the way it affected me too,

How her silky hair flowed when she removed her hair tie,

The sound of her shoes as she walked, that almost gave me a heart attack,

Her outfits that sometimes, no, that always piqued my thoughts,

Those expressions of hers that intrigued me,

And how she occupied my whole-freaking-mind just by the movements that she did,

Made me realize that 143 could have a different meaning.

"Who knows the answer here?"

Of course I do, but before I even raise my hand, someone else did.

"Yes madame?"

"143," I rolled my eyes as she confidently answered. "..right Louise?" She turned around to show me her smirking face that infuriates me so much to the the point that I want to destroy it.

This was before.

A memory that I can still clearly remember.

143 was the number that she used that day to mock me.

And ever since that day, 143 was the number that reminded me of her.

And now as I recall what her smirk looked like, It makes me want to erase that smirk so bad... with a kiss.

Yes, our story began with 143.

143 that first meant,

"I hate you"

That later on became,

"I.. I like you."

But never destined to be..

"I love you"

...