Mine
Mine.
There was that boy again. There was that boy that made her over flood with emotions, the one that made her laugh while regretting not being with him. That boy was magic, and he had no clue. It happens to most boys, that magic effect they have on girls. They have no clue, completely oblivious to the millions of phenomena occurring. They were controlling these girls, just by a wave of a hand or a gentle, friendly hug. This boy had the girl's world in his hands, and all it took was a wrong handle and her planet explodes.
The boy looked different to her each time she looked at him. Sometimes his light auburn eyes had a twinkle in them that made her insides explode, sometimes when he smiled she became overwhelmed with the anxiety to permanently attach her lips to his. He was just an angel. He had to have divine connections of some sort.
There was that girl again. There was that girl that made his heart flutter, the one who could turn him upside-down a million times in the matter of seconds. That girl was something special, he didn't know what it was. He had, of course, kissed many girls in his sixteen years, but he longed for those delicate, pale lips belonging to the one girl he would do anything for. Why she seemed so far away he couldn't understand; why did girls have to distance themselves from the male gender all of the time? It was the one thing he didn't know about the dozens of partners he had- none of them were close to him emotionally. All each one had wanted was to be close to him physically, so he could be another name on a checklist.
The boy was too good for that. He held his head high, doing what he was proud of and what reflected him. He was original, and he was not a slut. Unfortunately, girls wouldn't believe that. If boys were good for one thing, it was sex.
The boy wasn't afraid of anything, especially rejection. He knew he was favored among many by the female 'species' (or so it seemed). He had everything going for him except her, which was, in fact, quite a big part of him. The boy looked down to his book, eyes darting away from her indescribable beauty. She was nothing special, but in a way everything was special. He closed the book and stood up, bracing himself for the plunge he was about to take. He slowly walked towards her, noticing her sparkling eyes on his.
“Hey,” he said, stopping before her. In his good luck, she stopped as well. She returned the hello politely, looking up at him.
Arms starting to shake slightly, he made his move. “Hey, you know...there's something on your lips.” In instinct she reached up with two delicate fingers to wipe off the culprit.
“What is it?” she asked. The boy slowly removed her fingers, knowing he had the power to play the part he had always longed for. He leaned in and kissed her, lacing his left hand with her right, snaking his right arm around her back.
”Mine.”
The boy looked different to her each time she looked at him. Sometimes his light auburn eyes had a twinkle in them that made her insides explode, sometimes when he smiled she became overwhelmed with the anxiety to permanently attach her lips to his. He was just an angel. He had to have divine connections of some sort.
There was that girl again. There was that girl that made his heart flutter, the one who could turn him upside-down a million times in the matter of seconds. That girl was something special, he didn't know what it was. He had, of course, kissed many girls in his sixteen years, but he longed for those delicate, pale lips belonging to the one girl he would do anything for. Why she seemed so far away he couldn't understand; why did girls have to distance themselves from the male gender all of the time? It was the one thing he didn't know about the dozens of partners he had- none of them were close to him emotionally. All each one had wanted was to be close to him physically, so he could be another name on a checklist.
The boy was too good for that. He held his head high, doing what he was proud of and what reflected him. He was original, and he was not a slut. Unfortunately, girls wouldn't believe that. If boys were good for one thing, it was sex.
The boy wasn't afraid of anything, especially rejection. He knew he was favored among many by the female 'species' (or so it seemed). He had everything going for him except her, which was, in fact, quite a big part of him. The boy looked down to his book, eyes darting away from her indescribable beauty. She was nothing special, but in a way everything was special. He closed the book and stood up, bracing himself for the plunge he was about to take. He slowly walked towards her, noticing her sparkling eyes on his.
“Hey,” he said, stopping before her. In his good luck, she stopped as well. She returned the hello politely, looking up at him.
Arms starting to shake slightly, he made his move. “Hey, you know...there's something on your lips.” In instinct she reached up with two delicate fingers to wipe off the culprit.
“What is it?” she asked. The boy slowly removed her fingers, knowing he had the power to play the part he had always longed for. He leaned in and kissed her, lacing his left hand with her right, snaking his right arm around her back.
”Mine.”