This Could Turn Into Something (oneshots)

Out of the frying pan and into the fire

Maybe walking out of the door wasn't my best idea. It was like seeing the sunlight for the first time. Like having the gates of heaven open up for you. But it was just his face. He didn't see my face. He never saw my face. He never gave me the time of day. But I stared at the face of god. All angular lines colored in with a golden tan, framed by light curls, and there sat two blue orbs. Each flaw, each freckle, each scar only heightened his perfection. It made him human but he couldn't be. Those blue orbs never scanned me in ways I desired. They never glanced, not that that would satisfy me. Some sort of longing spawned in my chest. An ache grew and pulsed. I needed to leave but I wanted him. My eyes went down to the rest of him. His shirt hugged every muscle and enhanced every contour. The jeans he wore hung low at his hips, causing his boxers to peak through. His arms were expose, all strong and solid. I wanted his long fingers to touch me as much I was wanted to touch him. I wanted to know if his skin was cold with disinterest or burning hot with my passion. I knew nothing of love or relationships. Could I even have a relationship with him? What if his looks weren't matched with his personality? Even worse, what if he didn't like me or find me attractive? As I shut the door behind me, he began to walk away.