Best Thing In Town

Who was he to make me feel like this? Who am I to let him do this to me?

He stood in front of me now, casually crushing out his cigarette beneath his shoe. Fixing his stare onto the pavement beneath him, he sighed and then looked up at me through his eyelashes.

His bloodshot eyes, slightly swollen proved that he had been agonized with miniscule amounts of insomnia lately. His black tufts of hair gave way to the storm's warning winds. His face flushed pale.

His gracefully green eyes glimmered, gorgeously independent from the deathly dull clouds above. His hair a shadow, somberly free. His face pierced like perfectly pieced porcelain.

Smirking sullenly smooth, he spoke. "This weather's something, isn't it."

I quit my subtle gawking and answered. "Yeah, it's gonna be a hell of a storm."

"I'll say." His presence wandered for a split second, and then he was back to me. "Anyway, school's a drag, huh."

I nodded.

"That's a nice shirt."

A weary smile.

"Well, I've got to get going before I get carried away in this great flood. I'll see ya around." A somewhat smiled surfaced to both of our lips. Then he walked away, and I just watched.