He stays at the library for hours, reading books mostly from the Language Section. He keeps his moleskine notebook with him at all times; he sometimes scribbles something in after reading a book, or at times he pens something original, something of his own words. Whenever he reads, his eyes seem too bright. I like his eyes. They seem weirdly chocolate-y brown–different from the thousands of brown irises I’ve seen my entire life.
He owns a Prius. I’ve seen him in the parking lot once, twice, thrice. He doesn’t fumble with the keys as I do; he has it ready in his hands a few feet away from his car. He has big hands. I wonder how they might feel with my own. I wonder if his hands are strong as they look, or if his hands are tender and soft. I want to know.
He smiles and says good morning to people. I’ve had the opportunity to be greeted by him. Once, just once. His eyes smile whenever he greets a person. I want to see him smile at me again. So every time I can, I’d walk by him, trying forever to catch his eye. But I only got a smile from him once. Just once. It felt good, his chocolate-y brown eyes looking at my murky dark brown ones. Have I already said anything about his dimple? He has one on his right cheek. I can see it even when he’s just frowning, or talking.
I like him. I don’t know him, but I like him. I just see him at campus–I don’t even have the same classes as him. I don’t even see him everyday. I don’t know his schedule–that would seem entirely too stalker-ish, don’t you think? But whenever I get the chance, I try and get a glimpse of him. Just one glimpse. Just one makes my day.
-First of the Lovephase series, containing glimpses of many stages, phases, and views of love.