Little Boy Blue

One // Soft Lilac

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     Eleven years later.

      HE STOOD IN FRONT of me, his dark eyes settling on mine. The dark night around us wasn't helping in easing the tension between us, but rather, the blackness surrounding us caused more intimacy. The way the stars twinkled above our heads seemed to draw us closer one another.

      It seems so foolish, but nature is somehow helping us feel more familiar with one another.

     Eleven years — it's been that long since I met this boy. The boy who had a permanent scowl across his face; the boy who was obsessed with the color blue; the boy whom I have been infatuated with ever since I met him.

     But he and I, we're so different. We're like the sun and moon - the other spreads sun shine and loved seeing people in the light, the other hiding in the darkness and wanting to be all alone. We're like the colors red and blue - the other represents wildness and chaos, the other calm and still.

     Despite his attitude, towards me especially, I have grown fond of him throughout the years. Although he has always been cold and harsh to me, something about him pulls me closer to him; draw me near him.

      It feels as though I have the need to break down his walls, for me to enter his life. It's irritating and very exciting at the same time.

     He moved closer and I felt my feet approach him, the gap between us getting thinner and thinner each step the other took. Our eyes still locked at one another, it feels like little was stopping us.

     Merely inches away from each other, I could feel his warm breath, causing my heart to pound faster and harder than usual. I loved the feeling; the thrill. It wasn't long until he leaned closer, his eyes slowly closing.

          Aaaand I woke up.

     I was back at the classroom with my History professor and some other students. Realizing it was only a dream, I banged my head against the wooden table, groaning in frustration.

      "Had a nice sleep?" asked a voice beside me. Knowing who it was, I ignored her temporarily and replied with a grunt. She chuckled.

     "You have to focus on this class, you know," Stevie, my longtime best friend, stated, her voice hushed so as the professor won't hear them. "You're gonna fail if you won't pay attention."

     Stevie Wood, aside from the fact that she's my best friend, is a genius student who can practically do anything — from arts to music-related activites, literature, public speaking and other things I can't name. She also had a silly side of her, aside drom her serious I'm-a-smart-kid side. She was basically an all-in-one person.

      She has long dark hair (darker than mine) and huge eyes that seem to pop out from her small face. Stevie was shorter than most and would be mistaken for a fourth grader if she were to hang out with ten-year-olds. Because of her large eyes, lack of height and her capability to pout very well, Stevie was always titled as a cute girl. ("Fuck you," I remember Stevie saying that to a guy the first time he commented that about her.)

       I rolled my eyes at Stevie. "Bitch please," I scoffed, "I didn't do shit last year and I didn't fail." I smiled at her triumphantly, Stevie chuckling as a response.

       "First of all, that logic is beyond stupid," she stated, slightly laughing, "and second, you barely passed last year."

       I huffed. "Well, I'm talking to a perfectionist slash straight A student. If I were to ask someone on how to be a better procrastinator, you're definitely not the first person I'm going to ask."