Untitled #2


She was attentively listening to him when he confessed all of his feelings. Wait, perhaps she just thought she was so, because all she could remember afterwards was his eyes, not his words.

So let’s put it this way. She was staring into his eyes when he said what he has kept inside. However, though she looked into his eyes, her sight was sort of lost somewhere else. She saw nothing. She heard nothing. She recollected herself again, but surely not completely, when the whole world stopped at the exact same time that he stopped speaking, and they both caught themselves looking into each other eyes with a little shy smile painted over their face. It lasted just about 3 seconds before he looked away, but within those 3 seconds, their soul connected. Those 3 seconds they bewitched each other unconsciously.

She looked down at her shoes, kicking away some fallen brown leaves. He took that chance to look carefully at her as if to let his eyes and brain captured her perfectly as she was, with that long curled brown hair, a little bit messy. With that beautiful shinning dark-coloured eyes. With those burgundy lips. Maybe he could print out this picture of her to admire in the way it was today later in the future.

They stood beside each other but both did not stand still. There was this urge coming from within themselves telling them to just move. And accidentally his hand moved to hit hers softly. They both knew that there was a flicker of spark which, for just a half second, created the thought of holding one’s another’s hand. They did not allow themselves to do so anyway. He kept his hand into the pocket of his jeans, while she raised hers to scratch an imaginary itch on her neck.

Silence was falling between them. She looked up to his face. He smiled a little before looking away again.

“Maybe…”, said her breaking the silence. He looked back to her face.

“Maybe it feels like that burning breath you inhale from a burned-out cigarette in between your fingers. You are trying to hold on to that sort of good feeling as long as possible, though you know it is getting extinguished and you should just throw it away.”

“Yes, maybe. My throat is probably being burned now.”, replied him understanding her completely.

She smiled with half absolute happiness, half sadness in her eyes.

“Well then, goodbye.”



Suggested soundtrack: If Our Love is Wrong by Calum Scott