Obsessive Love Disorder

Prologue

(I thought the song above would go well as background music. So you can imagine it. *^▁^* )

Tik tok,tik tok,tik tok.

Another second went by. Tik tok,tik tok.

I'm pretty sure that's what he was looking at. Waiting for 2:30 to come by so he can switch classes. He never did like history. Whenever we're in history he slumps his body into his chair and presses his chin into his chest with his burnt umber eyes fixated on the red hand of the clock watching it rotate in a circular movement.

About five minutes into a staring contest with the clock he huffs in a deep breath, fixes his posture, rubs an olive skinned hand through his jet black hair and scribbles something onto his paper to make it seem as if he has any sort of interest in what Mr.Tuchman is rambling on about.

"In 1760..." blah blah blah "The Afgan forces..." blah blah blah. Is all his brain seemed to interpret. His features appeared so..empty. No, not empty. Vacuous. His features appeared vacuous. Even still, I was hypnotized in his essence, in his aroma. It's like he carried himself so gently he left a spirit behind him wherever he went.

There. There it is again. He's looking at the clock again. If only he would look at me the way he looks at that red hand..A girl can dream. Riiinngg! And just like that, he's gone. I love history in general but mainly because it's the only time of the day I share a class with him. We're practically fire and ice. We have nothing in common. I sleep with my lights on because it gives me a sense of safety and peace. But across from my kitchen window, in his bedroom that lies downstairs on the first floor of his house, is dark. With only the television illuminating the four pale grey corners of his master bedroom, and his eyelids that seem to close around 6:00pm and open at 3:00am. Giving him the opportunity to do his homework and lay back down.

I love bright colors and objects that catch the eye like a flashlight in the middle of the night. He has a darker wardrobe and prefers black and grey colors that appear invisible until you squint, and let your pupils adjust to the deep color. I like dancing as it washes over my anxiety and replaces it acceptance and freedom. Whilst Robyn likes to lay back a little more and take a breath when he feels nervous or unsure. He doesn't really favor his name as he chooses to go by Armani. His middle name. Robyn Armani Lockwood. I like how his name rolls of my tongue with such ease but at the same time but with a slight twister.

I, on the other hand love my name. Melanie Aurora Vanderbilt. I think it suits me and my lovable personality. It's just like what Sabrina Carpenter said. "We're like salt and pepper, at first glance it doesn't look like we go together. But everyone knows we belong". That's Armani and I. You know what they say though.

Opposites attract. Just like a chemical equation. I just have to get him to at least be aware of me. At least. Why can't he notice me, bring his attention to me, love me, touch me, and care for me like no other. He has a short attention span though, so if i'm gonna insert myself into his life, I want assure i'll stay there.