Unpredictability of Love

Why Is Bird-Brain An Insult?

The day he realized my crazy stalking came sooner than I thought it would. And I definitely hadn't been ready for it. It was just another day, and I found myself watching his cheeks as he puffed them out, then shrank them, puffed them out, and shrank them rhythmically. It was fascinating and hypnotizing.

I watched him without tearing my gaze from him for a long time, then realized that I'd been ogling at him for almost 20 minutes straight, and staring at a stranger for that long could get you into trouble with that particular stranger. So I tried to force myself to look down.

I couldn't.

I watched as my subject slowly, deliberately, dropped his smoking hand to the side and looked up. The distance between us made it hard for me to decipher his expression, but I knew that he knew that I'd been watching like a creep for far too long.

He stood straight, away from the wall. Slowly, he took one step

Then

And the next

Four steps later, I knew for a fact that he was walking in my general direction, the frown on his face was becoming more and more obvious on his pale face.

Was he pissed off at my incessant staring? Probably. I held his gaze for a moment longer before snapping my head down and glaring at my books instead.

I shouldn't have stared at him for that long, maybe if I told him that I hadn't been staring at him but watching the birds behind his head, he would believe me and not bite my head off. After all, he was a drug addict and people who do drugs generally don't like being watched by teenaged girls. Or so I'd heard.

I heard his footsteps coming closer and closer, they seemed to get louder the closer he got to me. I clenched my fists tightly, I felt scared and nervous all at once. Was he coming to tell me off? Have me thrown out of the park for being creepy? Or maybe he'll just murder me.

Murder is not good, I decided.

Studying, yes, studying, that's exactly what I'd been doing for the past one hour, nothing less, nothing more.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself to argue with the guy about my rights an an American citizen to stare at anything but my books even if I WAS supposed to be studying, because textbooks are much less interesting than birds flying behind a person's head. That HAD to be a good argument, right?

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There are some moments in my life in which I realise how stupid I am, and this moment was one of those moments.

My subject, or rather the guy who was apparently going to murder me for staring at him too long, walked right past me, stopped at the trash bin next to my bench and dropped his cigarette into it.

You're an idiot Emmaline, you really are I told myself.

Why would somebody murder me just for staring at them anyway? I was just being stupid by thinking that he would even notice me, after all, I had been coming to this park for quite a few days and he had no reason to -

"Do you have a problem with me?"

I practically jumped out of my skin before looking up to meet a pair of very scary grey eyes ready to burn holes into my head.

I'd seen him a lot of times this past month, actually, I'd seen him every day this past month, but now that I was getting a closer look at him, I finally understood the meaning of a bad boy.

He was tall, so tall that he would have to bend to look down at me even if I stood up. His jet black hair, eyes and clothes only added to his 'bad boy' look. Both his arms had tattoos, like, the entirety of the exposed arms were covered in colour. The only thing missing was multiple piercings on his nose.