my bursts of inspiration (random short stories)

the mesmorising boy/ this is who i am

 well this is my first one, hope you guys like it :)

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I watched as his hand moved gracefully across the page, covering it in his cursive writing. His body leaning slightly to the right, his brow creasing  as he thought how to answer the next question, so oblivious to the fact that I was watching him. But that little piece of serenity never lasts. As if on cue, he looked up and straight at me. I turned around so fast my hair whipped my face, a blush slowly creeping up my cheeks. I let out a sigh as I saw him go back to work. Taking out the small pocket book that I kept in my pencil case I flipped to the back where I kept the pictures that I drew of him. Slightly creepy I know but it was the only way I could vent out my feelings.  I picked up my pencil and began another drawing. When I was done I looked over it and once again sighed as I realised that this was the closest I would ever get to looking in his perfect hazel eyes. In fact, to me, his whole face was perfection. His perfectly shaped lips, the natural rosy colour in his cheeks, the way his hair was tousled from the amount of times he ran his hands through it and his slightly tan skin that made him stand out amongst the white people of good old Scotland. But the thing that attracted me the most to him, his accent. He was polish and even though I'd only heard him speak a few times, even the memory of his deep voice sends tingles down my spine. He affected me much more then he should, like  the way his laugh makes me want to melt into his arms, or the fact that even a single accidental touch of our hands could make my heart go triple time, even the thought of him brings a giggle to my lips. But alas, some things are just a fantasy, I remind myself of this often, in hope maybe one day I could get over this silly crush. Yet still, somehow I have a small slither of hope that what I feel for him is a mutual feeling between the two of us. I am dragged out of my thoughts as the bell rings, a high shrill noise that signals the end of the period. Stuffing my geography folder into my bag I murmur a goodbye to Eilidh and slip out of the classroom door. Working my way through the already forming crowds of people I plug my headphones in and relish in the familiar sound of my music as I go down the stairs and head to craft and design. Keeping my eyes trained on the ground I try to avoid looks from everyone I pass. It's not the fact that I'm afraid of them or anything; it's actually quite the opposite. I'm one of the most boisterous characters in our school, you're lucky if you can get me to shut up, but I'm deadly shy. With my short hair that sat in ringlets unless I straightened it and my ever changing eyes most people will do anything to avoid me, but you want to know the strange thing, I prefer life like this. I can do almost anything I want and people don't notice I'm there, it's almost as if I'm invisible. I don't have to worry if my hair is sitting right or if my clothes look creased, its who I am and if people don't care enough to notice me, then that's fine. What other people say or think is not going to affect who I am, and that's the way I like it.

Dont forget to comment and vote !!!

Mik x