I never had the courage.
Not at eight.
Not at eighteen.

You were by your locker,
sulky lips and shadowed eyes staring
                                     mindlessly.

And with the way almond strands
were begging to be tucked behind your ear,
the words were out before I could stop.

"Hey!"

Your  h o n e y b r o w n  eyes widened
and a breeze blew inside me.

"Artist Hart, right?"

Fake confidence I didn't have spilt with the words and smile.

Your eyebrows scrunched adorably
and I couldn't help but

smile wider.

a/n., 1 1/2 years and yep, I'm going to finish this book.