Lights spiralling, music blaring, people laughing nervously, myself pretending to actually like socialising,and through this chaotic setting, my eyes always manage to drag their sight to Y/N.
Words can not describe my desperation for her.
It's not a measly crush.
Its desire, craving, need, and passion. Raw passion for her.
Sometimes, i find myself searching in a thesaurus and scanning through all the words of beautiful, and still not a single one is powerful enough to describe her yet along even to describe a quatre of what she is.
Lover Boy Mattheo. Why did I lowkey become a poet in this chapter.