December 31 is the day we first met. It was 2 years ago. We were at a New Years Eve party and our friends introduced us. You had these beautiful blue eyes that I fell in love with the moment I looked into them. Your hair was up in a quiff. It looked good on you. The whole time we talked you had this goofy grin on your face. Your laugh was contagious.
I can't remember what we talked about. I don't think I was paying much attention. I was captivated by your beauty. I still am. Even as I see you laying there with your eyes closed.
You looked good. You didn't look perfect. You only looked perfect when you weren't trying. You looked to neat as you lay there. I have to restrain myself from running my fingers through you hair. Maybe I should. Maybe if I did your eyes would magically open and I would get to see your beautiful eyes.
I knew that wouldn't happen. It couldn't. Your eyes would never open again.
You are dead.
YOU ARE READING
Luke (1/4)
Short StoryShort Story Series Book 1: Luke No one knows why you did it. They say I'm supposed to know, but even I can't figure it out.
