I'm staring at her. But not on purpose.
I'm fascinated how her hair style changes in every way. But no matter what color or shape it ends up being, she still looks amazing.
Kinda reminds me of Ramona Flowers from Scott Pilgrim, like another girl I've met. Only this time, no evil ex boyfriends. Yet she's still out of my league.
I'm staring at her, but not on purpose.
I am trapped by her look. From head to toe, her outfit fascinates me. While I blend into the shadows, never changing. She seems to sparkle and glow in every way. She might not see it, but I do.
I am staring at her, but not on purpose.
Until one day she turns her head to look at me. I blush a little and should look away. She smiles and waves. What is passing through her head right now? What does she see when she looks at me? Does my pain show upon the surface, or is my barrier holding its ground? Can she see past my emotionless eyes to see the ocean of tears? Does she notice the way I look at her, like she is a princess destined for greatness? While i'm some stable boy, destined for nothing special.
Is she staring at me? Is it on purpose?
YOU ARE READING
A suspiciously odd amount of Short Stories.
RandomHere's some stories that are small, may not have a beginning. May not have an ending. But they are what they are. Deal with it I guess. "//" - Super short writing bits. ">><<" - Short Stories.
