DANIEL STEFANS SAID HE LIKED CHERRIES THE MOST, he said cherries tasted like heaven. Did Daniel Stefans tell you that you tasted like cherries too? Because, Daniel Stefans told me I tasted like the sweetest cherry he's ever gotten a taste of.
When I first saw Daniel Stefans on campus, I thought I was seeing things. I thought I was seeing almighty god or a son of whatever god or goddess of beauty and sex and love. I thought I was hallucinating, maybe high?
I only knew I wasn't because everyone else saw him too. They saw his brilliance the way I did. They saw the way he walked with his chin held high and jaw tight. They saw the way he smiled- smirked at girls who weren't awestruck enough to flirt with him on the low. They saw the way his clothes clung onto his muscles that shifted beneath the fabric with every move. They saw the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he greeted a friend with a smile. They saw him the way I saw him too.
They saw him as an object of worship.
I almost couldn't believe it when he stopped to look at me. I almost fainted when he began walking to me. I almost died on the spot when he spoke to me. I couldn't believe it.
"Hey, doll."
His voice was deep. Raspy. Like when you wake up on a perfect morning with the soft sun streaking through half-drawn blinds, skin smooth and hair soft and no sign of anything that could make you feel less than amazing. He was the perfect thing to wake up to in the morning too.
"Couldn't help but notice your intense staring."
Shit.
"Would you like my number or a photo so that you don't have to see me every second of the day?"
Fuck.
"No thanks," I blinked dumbly up at him, his height only adding to the beauty that is him. "I-I should go." I said, mostly to myself, tearing my eyes away from his godly face and scurrying off.
He made no move to stop me, but I could feel his stare on my back as I retreated from him. I could still feel his presence even as I increased the distance between us, oozing confidence and charisma, radiating warmth that rivaled the sun (or maybe it was me reacting to him) and perfection that couldn't possibly be obtained (or maybe it was how much I wanted to touch him but couldn't).
He was a dangerous, dangerous person.
And I was right, he was the lethal poison that looked so much like the cure.
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it's really late and i'm meeting a friend tomorrow, early afternoon, so i need to catch some sleep.
night, loves.
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Randomparts of (short)/stories i want to write but i know i can't and won't finish in my lifetime.
