Inspired by “Liquid Smooth” — Mitski

You didn’t notice him watching you. You never did. Mikey always sat behind you in class — not because the teacher put him there, but because he quietly switched the seating chart when no one was around. And from that seat, he had the perfect view of you. The way you played with your bracelets. The way you tapped your foot to music in your head. The way your hair slid over your shoulder like water. It was hypnotic. To Mikey, everything about you was smooth and fluid and alive — a sharp contrast to the numb stillness he lived in. He’d catch himself staring, trying to memorize every motion. Not in a creepy way — more like you were the one thing in the room that felt real.

Today, when you were stretching your hands after writing too much, he unconsciously leaned forward in his seat. And Draken elbowed him. “Stop being weird.” But Mikey didn’t move his eyes He didn’t even blink. He just whispered under his breath: “Can’t.” When class ended, you turned around for just a second — a single second — and smiled at him. Not a big smile. A small, easy one. He felt it go through him like a shot of sunlight to the chest. He bit his lip, looked down, and muttered: “…I’m so done.” Because he knew he’d never look at anyone else the same way again.