her pov
His skin was glowing like last Christmas and I wanted to so simply pull the plug so he could close his eyes, his bags were dripping down his ivory skin, and I felt sympathy. He held a bland cigarette behind his ear, grabbing it quickly and lighting it without even opening his eyes. His lighter crumbled into his black pockets, his finger tips rubbing against his lips before blowing white tendrils through the depths of his nostrils carefully while his lips stayed glued together, his mouth slowly opened to let out distant air.
I watched for fourteen minutes. He would kick pebbles if he wasn't smoking and once the pebbles were all kicked he would pick his nails and if his nails were all nubs he would untie his shoes and retie them and once they were already tied he would sit, and look around, and after fourteen minutes and thirty seven seconds, he saw me.
He saw me staring at him with a strawberry lollipop stuck between my gums and tongue, my mind infuriated with the boy, why didn't he breathe? He intrigues my mind and I could sit here for days wondering why the boy won't do anything but everything, he is impossible to watch but I can't find my eyes looking anywhere else.
I could hear the bus running it's venture up the curvy street, the boy with misunderstood emotions flashing into a sense of direction as he stood up carefully, and walked slower than slow across the paved street, our skin only three feet at the most.
This was the closest I thought we would ever be. I mean sure, of course I assumed that the boy that dressed like he belonged in the dark would sit by himself on the rather large full bus, I didn't expect him to sit front row and face the window with this hint of don't you fucking dare sit beside me and I could smell it, so I sat behind him.
Sky what the fuck are you doing? This is so fucking stalkerish? I bet he can see me from the corner of his eyes. He probably thinks I am in love with him or some shit. Fuck why did I sit here. Dammit. Maybe if I get up now-
Within seconds, the clock seemed to turn into fairy dust and I looked into this pond filled with golden fish swimming laps around a black orb that represented freedom and I wanted to add posterity but I never learned what that meant I just loved the way it sounded when I was trying my hardest to sound sophisticated.
His eyes were screeching like this old bus' breaks, he didn't say a word, his lungs not even moving as breath never left his lips. The damn boy didn't breath.
I smiled at his ivory Christmas light skin, his pine tree scent mustered just a little longer in the air as seconds flew down the aisle. And all of the sudden everyone around me was moving but him, he sat, frozen, his neck reclined so that his back was to the world and his shoulders were parallel to my face, his eyes, fuck his eyes, glaring at me like I ran over his cat.
I knew where he was going. I believe he knows where I am going, but his lips left no emotion to be discovered so I wiped that fucking grin off my face and felt my skin heat up, he was mad. Was he? Why would he be mad at me?
He turned back around as my life got caught in my throat, a gulp the only audible sound left in my system.
The bus driver had dark brown skin that was scarred and scratched, his lips red and his eyes tired. He looked at the two of us through the rear view window giving me this look of unappreciation viewings towards my fond liking in the glass eyed boy.
It wasn't cold outside, but his skin was covered in a lose white shirt that hung to his finger tips, he seemed so vulnerable, I wanted to wrap him up in my arms and fold him into a blanket and set him by the fire.
He was indescribably beautiful, from all angles you could see beauty radiating off of his feathered skin, he was like this masterpiece that was pressed against earth to be shattered and kicked around and then be glued together by the one.
