dedicated to cavetown- , because i still lowkey feel mean for saying you should adopt abigail. here ya go - some gay to make you happy.

(those of you who don't know what i'm talking about, go and checkout QueenGrace11 's wolfstar fanfiction 'no control'. es ist sehr gut).

***

you sit down at his table,
but he doesn't seem to ever
notice your presence.

he sits down at your table,
and your heart has to be shushed
by your head: it's only because
there's nowhere else to sit.

his eyes are focused beautifully
on the page in front of him -
those dark pupils move quickly,
as though there isn't
enough time to read the whole world.

his gaze is so wonderfully vacant,
staring deep into somewhere beyond
human comprehension,
as though the whole world
could wait for him to continue living.

you want to take his hand,
as it sits loosely
in his black, bushy hair,
and brush your fingers together.

his foot is brushing against yours,
and you internally start freaking out.
but it's an accident -
of course it is.

he doesn't know:
you think about him at
precisely quarter-to-stupid
every morning,
and without fail, a smile
slips sleepily on to you lips.

you wish you could tell him:
you open your eyes when
your alarm rings,
and remember
his soft blue eyes,
and mussed hair,
and it's the only thing
that makes you get up.

he doesn't know:
you always, always want to
talk to him,
but words seem like an effort
in front of he who renders
you speechless.

you wish you could tell him:
he is your favourite book,
a warm drink on a cold day,
a candle you can carry around.

the teacher clears their throat:
you look up, and they send you a glare.

it seems the world isn't going to wait
after all.
he looks so surprised.

he looks at you,
and smirks a little.
you blush: did he notice?

did he just blush?
was it because of you?

probably not.

probably not.

you sigh,
and keep writing.

oh, well -
there's no harm in dreaming.