Maybe They’ll Turn Into Something

by letterzee

All she wants right now is to hear his voice, to hear him speak. There’s something about the way he talks. His accent, perhaps? The way he enunciates every word – it’s just beautiful, too good to hear. Or perhaps it’s the way he talks so calmly, flashing a soft smile. At times she catches his eyes going off into a dreamy state, looking at a distant space.

In the mornings, she’d stand diagonally behind him. His head turns slightly to the left, throwing careful glances at her. She looks at him for a while and when her heart can’t take it any second longer, her eyes somehow automatically dart away. That’s when he catches himself off guard and pretends to find some other subject to look at. While he’s at it, he lifts his right hand to fix his unkempt hair, and she finds it cute.

When she meets him for the first time, he smiles and just simply stares at her. From that moment on, she figures his smile will be the sole reason for those palpitating beats in her chest. As she gets closer to him that smile she treasures so much vanishes.

She feels sad.

She soon realizes that a more effortless smile is what she gets as they talk. Everything seems to be so at ease now. She teases him, she nudges him, and call him nicknames. They laugh at the same time at the exact same moment. A progress, she thinks.

Maybe they’ll turn into something.

She’s hoping.

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