Random Things I Write When I Have Inspiration

#2

He was playing with me, toying with me. Acting like I was someone he could love, acting like he was innocent. It's evil, it's madness, it's that swirl of feeling inside of me that as much I tried, I just could not get rid of. Just a moment ago, he seemed so innocent, like everything he did to me never happened, he was a good guy. Like he didn't break my heart.

"Whatcha doin." He said. He threw his arm around my shoulder, and sat by me on the bench. Curse whatever god put him on this Earth.

I rolled my eyes, "it's none of your business."

His smile faded, replaced by a frown. "You're still not going to forgive me, huh?"

I shook my head, and turned my gaze to the fountain ahead of me, willing my eyes not to meet his.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking, too much actually. My brain feels like it's going to implode on itself." He looked at me. Sometimes it felt like when he did that, he could see right through me. See anything so felt, as if he could read my mind. "I've been thinking about you."

"What about me?" I asked coolly.

"You want a list?" He laughed, but not a real one. Not the one that made her want to laugh and giggle and blush.

"I don't want anything from you."

"I'm still going to tell you. It's your choice if you want to run away."

"That is very much likely."

He took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about your eyes, how they're as blue as the sky. Your laugh, infectious, how it makes me want to-" he stopped suddenly.

"Go on, continue." I said, watching him.

"I-" and then he left again.

It's funny how this keeps happening.