The second I saw you holding hands with him, I knew it was over for me.

Can't blame you, though, how were you supposed to know I'm basically in love with him if I never told you?

I can't tell you now.

Never.

Not even how much I adore his orange hair, always styled in such a messy, yet intentional way and how he twirls a strand of it in between his fingers whenever he spaces out.

How wide his smile can get when he laughs, his eyes pretty much disappearing.

I can't tell you.

Because he's yours.