Its some sort of sorcery, this way that a tube of goo could enrapture him to this point. He finds himself familiarising the way that her wrist moves to apply the gloss, swiping this way and that as he wishes that his finger could mimic the same motion.
He falls asleep that night wondering what flavour she’s adopted this month.
What would the clear, crimson taste like if he was to submit to the urge that he’s been pushing down for the past six months. Its improper. And anyway, it wasn’t meant to be. Curiosities are made to be catalogued in the mental library of all the things he can never have. Instead, he finds himself completing his creative writing assignment with a characterising glimmer of a gleaming angel who smelled like honey and gave sweet dreams to all. He doesn’t know what thats about.
He has to leave the room when he sees her in the morning.
She’s doing it again, layering colour as she peers into a little heart shaped mirror. His heart twinges and he has to massage his chest as he finds a secluded seat under a willow tree. But then it starts to rain, and he sighs in defeat, hand lingering above whilst the male watches the initial drops try to break through the tree line and press against his hand.
A flood of students gasping and pouring out into the rain indicate to the male that class was in fact cancelled for the day; which makes him feel some form of relief. His dreams the night before was filled with angel wings and golden hair, in the locked library deep in his brain he knows who it was about. But he doesn’t allow himself to pull on that thread.
He’s supposed to feel pity for the girl.
Does pity feel like his chest is burning every time he sees her? He’s had an increase in heart issues since he’s met her and no doctor has ever been able to tell him the source behind the issue. It burns when he watches her talk to other people. It used to solely occur when he saw her talk to guys, leaning in close, looking more absorbed than she ever has with him. But now he’s noticed the feeling spreading through his lungs like fire. Taking hold whenever he can’t reach out and feel her sat by his side.
If this pity is what he has to feel to keep her sat beside him; he’ll take it.