Chandler Riggs Imagines | √

Silented Words.

“You are like me, you will die too, but not today:  you, incommensurate, therefore the hours shine:  if I say to you “To you I say,” you have not been set to music, or broadcast live on the ghost radio, may never be an oil painting or Old Master’s charcoal sketch: you are a concordance of person, number, voice, and place, strawberries spread through your name as if it were budding shrubs, how you remind me of some spring, the waters as cool and clear which is where you occur in grassy moonlight: and you are a lily, an aster, white trillium or viburnum, by all rights mine, white star in the meadow sky, the snow still arriving from its earthwards journeys, here where there is no snow, you are my right, have come to be my night: and you fall from the sky with several flowers, words spill from your mouth in waves, your lips taste like the sea, salt-sweet: home is nowhere, therefore you,a kind of dwell and welcome, song after all, and free of any eden we can name.”

—You, therefore by Reginald Shepherd.

Listen to Write On Me by Fifth Harmony.

Y/N.

                                            My hand digs deeper into his backpack and when they bell rings, I run up to my seat. The class starts filling with people taking their seats and there he is, smiling at his friends while they walk up to the seat. He collapses to his seat and digs into his backpack.

I bite my lip and look down, trying to prevent me from getting caught staring at him. From the corner of my eyes, I catch a glimpse of my note while he opens it with intrigue.

“Oh, look!” Chandler announces to the closest friend next to him while he swings the note in his hand. “Someone left it my backpack.”

“Secret admirer?”

He shrugs, “Maybe. You know what's weird? I've been finding all types of poems in my backpack for over an entire month. Whoever this is, won't give up.”

His friend wiggles his eyebrows and Chandler snorts to then, punch him playfully on his arm.

“Why don't you ask her?” one of his friend asks while pointing at me. “Maybe she saw who left it.”

Chandler turns around and for a second, I think that I might faint. He tilts his head and his hair falls again against his cheek, barely brushing it. His blue eyes try to find mine while I try to hide the blush from my cheeks. His parted lips twitch and he smiles. He smiles for me.

Oh, Jesus.

“Hey,” he waves the note in my face. “Did you see who left it in my backpack?”

“N-no, why would I?” I ask, resting my hand on my hand.

He clicks his tongue and nods his head, pouting. Chandler turns around and the class begins.

Two hours of mathematics and the bell finally rings, that means, free period. I sprint towards the exit.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

The mention of my name makes me stop and turn around.

“Hey,” he gags, trying to catch his breath. “Why you running?”

“I-I'm hungry.”

“Really?” he says, now raising his spine. “Can I tag along?”

“Whatever.” I dismiss him with a hand and turn around. He rapidly catches up and we're walking side by side.

“I know it's been you.”

I look up at him and try to find any sign of joke in those blue eyes. Though, I see a glimpse of excitement in them. I gulp, “Excuse me?”

“Don't play the dumb with me.” he says. “The letters, poems, the three-word-letters. It's been you. It's always been you.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Riggs.” I gulp again and look downwards. His hand brushes mine intentionally and my stomach rises to my throat.

His side profile is almost perfect and he has a risky smirk plastered on his face. “Though, I've always liked them.”

• • •
Bless your girl for finally upload an imagine!!

Honestly, I think this is one of the cutest imagines I've ever written. You see the tension?

Still, how did you like this. Should I do part 2?

Until next time,

Fa.

I'm so hungry, help.