Beautiful words harmonizing into a work of art, the feeling of the pen softly grazing the paper being your constant companion. Reading and writing being your passion. Wishing and dreaming of a person that recognized the gnawing feeling of love and affection. Souls intertwining into an elegant dance, like swans finding their mate for life.

An outcast you were, a teen that has a love for reading and writing. Many being teenagers that only care about lust and parties. Thinking that you wouldn't be able to find the one, one that accepts your need, one that is committed. Isolating yourself from others, leaving you with your thoughts and feelings.

Your mind not comprehending the chance of an outgoing person to be the one you need, feeling the eyes of a girl,meris, on you. The soft hue of pink tinting her skin. Not recognizing it as something more. Seeing her in your line of sight more often than usual, snickering with her friends. Smoking on the school grounds, causing trouble with every step.

*Only to one day find a horrible piece of writing in your bag, looking like a scattered attempt to create a letter with meaning. With apologies almost scribbled all over the back of the letter.

As if on que meris, the very girl that seems to not keep her eyes off you, walked up to you as kids scrambled off to go gto the safety of their homes. Red highlighting her cheeks with a small quiver of her lower lip, a contrast to the outgoing and troublesome kid that you saw many times.

”This isn't what it looks like. Okay it might as well be, but listen. I tried. You know.” Pointing towards the piece of paper, embarrassment flowing into her facial expression. ”You know what, never mind. This never happened.”

Having her hand stretched out expectedly towards you, as if expecting you to give back the piece of paper that seems to be written by her. Obviously regretting the decision to give you that or even to write it. Seemingly not the type of thing she would ever do.