Maybe you'll see his hands first, touching your window, looking like they're screaming for help when in reality . . . they're saying hello. The rest of his body was just too shy to welcome you.
Maybe, if he's feeling brave, you'll see his eyes first, this picture he'll actually want to save in his memory, keeping it in his mind like a wallpaper on a laptop.
Maybe you'll see his hair. it's harder to hide than the rest of him. Bright in day, standing out like a lamppost at night.
People call him a ghost, and everybody believes it, because how could eyes like those be so lifeless? And how could his hands be so cold?
He's like a horror story little girls used tell, but for teenagers.
You might ask who he is, but no one knows.
But they should; his name was infamous once.
coming soon.
i know i know another fanfic
