Longing, Wishing, Hoping.

Tantalizing thoughts.

She looks on, longingly, at the man standing in front of her. Each small hand gesture. His soft blue eyes, lighting up as he speaks. Everything about him, she notices, every little detail, she loves. But, does she love too much? That's the real question. Is it true? The way she feels as their gazes meet? How her cheeks heat up in a blush? Or what about when she glances over at him, only to find him already looking? How does HE feel, as he realises she caught him staring? The two of them cannot read each other's mind. One does not know what the other thinks. When he says her name... God, when he says her name. It's something so small, so insignificant, yet the levels it affects her on could go forever. The way he says it... his voice. How could she ever describe it? Who knows... no words would be perfect enough to describe his voice, his eyes, his looks... Him. If someone were to ask her why she feels as she does, she wouldn't know how to respond. She barely knows herself.

And then her heart aches. She glances over at this mystery of a man, to see him with his head in his hands. A quiet, tired sigh escapes between his lips. The exhaustion etched into the features of his face. The fingers, sifting through and messing up his hair. She yearns to do something... anything, to help him. To reach out, to comfort. But what can she do? Nothing...

He doesn't look, but he knows of her concern. For him. As he rubs his face in frustration, her expression holds a frown. One that silently screams out a want to ask if he's okay. Her gaze drifts from her work to him, every now and then. She thinks he doesn't notice. But, something that only he knows, is just how much he does notice her. The little things she does. He shouldn't take notice of how a frown crosses her face, as she tries to understand something. Or, how she bites the end of her pen whilst thinking. But the thing he notices the most is when something is bothering her. Upsetting her. He yearns to do something... anything, to comfort her. But what can he do? Nothing...

Him and her. He and she. These two are alike, very alike, in different ways. But they do not know that. He knows how she feels, while she tries desperately to figure out his feelings, sitting up in the early hours of the morning pulling apart every interaction, conversation, look. And while they are similar, the two are very different. She could speak of her feelings to others, should she choose to. But he? He has to hide from them. For his feelings would not be approved of. While he longs to tell her, he cannot. She has noticed him change lately. But why? Her mind is left to wander, and wonder. Of what might be. What could be.

Like an invisible string, the two are drawn to each other. But what hurts the most, is the resistance they must face. For neither him nor her can act upon how each feels for the other. As each day goes by, it gets harder for both him and her. And as they converse as normal, he must caution himself on what can and cannot, should and should not be said. And her, unaware of the extent of his knowledge of her feelings, repeats in her mind to not give herself away. But is it that easy when in love? Each day, she looks on with the same longing look, at the man standing in front of her. He is forced to look at her as he does with everyone else. 

But, one day, it slips into his expression. A look of care. A look of love. A look that he knows she will not mistake. But her gaze reflects sadness, hurt. At that moment, they both now know, that he loves she, and she loves he. But the two of them could never be.