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maybe
[ angst, slight description of the reader ]
There was something about you that caught her eye. Maybe it was because of that sparkle in your eyes. She'd find herself staring at your eyes every now and then. Her observations lead her to the discovery of the faint pink barrier surrounding your heart-shaped pupil. She noticed that the same pink faded into tiny speckles around your iris and mixed in with other shades of pink.
Maybe it was your gorgeous hair. She loved the was your large afro framed your face and loved somewhat like a glorious crown. If you asked her, she'd say you looked other worldly, the embodiment of royalty in all its might. It didn't matter whether you had just come from a gruesome mission, covered in blood and dirt, she was enamored by you.
Maybe it was the cute little quirks you have. How you'd absent-mindedly cross your fingers, as if you were waiting for a long-awaited wish to come true. Sometimes you'd pick at the dirt in your nails, even if there wasn't any, and when you caught yourself doing this you'd purse your lips and slowly place your hands on your lap.
Maybe it was all of this and more. Maybe it was nothing at all. Maybe it was simply love, or lust, or infatuation. But maybe it doesn't matter, you are not here for her to clarify it all, you haven't been for a while now. It kills her that she can't see your skin glow in the sun's rays, that she can't hear your laugh, that she can't gaze your gorgeous eyes and that she never got to feel your perfect lips pressed against hers. Now, she can only dream of a life with you.
