The Boy Downstairs
The boy downstairs just made an appearance. I haven't seen him for weeks, ever since that first time I saw him when I moved in here 2 weeks ago. I don't know his name, his voice, not his age, but I can't help to look downwards every time he appears at his balcony. I keep windows open to cool down my room, but I'm always on alert of any sound emitting from downstairs. I've never actually seen his face; only the top of his head. I imagine him to be someone handsome, someone dashing, and someone who's a real romantic. I felt his sexy aura, floating upwards along with the smoke from his cigarette. Mum always say to stay away from those kind of people, but I'm not that quick to judge. He could be a good guy doing bad things, or non-bad things. From above, he still looks as good as the first time I set eyes on the tan, muscular arms attached to that thick, buff body. I'm not in love, but I think I have a crush on the boy downstairs.