There's something about the way he existed that drew me in. Ever since I stumbled upon that small themed cafe on my vacation to New England, I was hooked. Obsessed. I would do anything for that boy.
So I did. I stayed there for as long as he was visiting. We arrived at The World every day, exactly at 1:47pm. Except Tuesday's. We'd get there right at 2.
I'd always sit at the cute little overly-hipster booth towards the corner of the room, while he sat directly in the center. Always the center of attention, huh?
I'd watch him lift the dark purple mug to his soft delicate lips, carefully blowing on the Earl Grey tea, with two sugar cubes, before sipping away as he doesn't disrupt his gaze from his school laptop. He should be working on that Van Gogh essay. It's due Friday.
He's so beautiful. Everything about this man is beautiful. I can't find a single flaw. His soft hair falling perfectly, no matter the color. Right now it's black. Parted down the middle, but styled.
Who the hell is calling me?
I felt his gaze shift up to me. I blushed deeply and I hurried to end the call, and I didn't look up at him for the rest of the time we were there.
I'll get his attention a better way.
