ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Hey. Hey you. I like you.
But I‘m not going to tell you. I’m going to gaze at you from across the classroom hoping maybe you’ll look back at me in time for our eyes to meet, even momentarily. I’ll notice the way you never smile and that you have brown eyes. And maybe I’ll accidentally bump into you when I leave the room, so that when I apologize for doing so, you’ll look at me and say not to worry about it. And I won’t, because you will have said not to.
You’ll ask me to teach you to dance, even when I’ll be just as bad as you are. But I’ll learn you will touch me gently and gentlemanly, your hands never left my waist even when I expect them to. You’ll tell me bits and pieces about yourself, the good parts that I’ll come to love the most. Your favorite color is blue and you live alone. I respect you instantly; you deserve it.
We’ll write your bucket list together, and by that, I mean you’ll steal my dreams and write fill them in as your own. It will be a phone call that night, filled with ideas and stories and dreams and wishes. You’ll learn more of mine than I do of yours and it will leave me curious. You’re the only one who could do that to me; get me to talk about my dreams like that.
One day you’ll stand across from me in an almost parking lot and I’ll not be able to control myself. I’ll walk steadily three steps to you, press my lips to yours and wobble two steps backward. It will shock us both; I didn’t know I had it in me. You’ll smile, flustered, and I’ll race to my car as fast as my heart was racing towards my ribcage. Your lips tingled afterward, you said.
I’ll wear red lipstick and you’ll ask me why, but the day after I won’t and you’ll be pleased. You’ll want to really kiss me. Really kiss me. And I’ll meet you during class in a semi-secluded-yet-not courtyard, leaning down to part your lips on mine and the world will spin and time will end and it will be just us and the sounds of erratic breathing and your hand on my waist and your fingers in my hair and my pulling on your shirt and pulling you closer and tears I didn’t know wear in my eyes until I made my eyelids swallow them because I’d never felt that much that way before.
But I‘m not going to tell you. I’m going to gaze at you from across the classroom hoping maybe you’ll look back at me in time for our eyes to meet, even momentarily. I’ll notice the way you never smile and that you have brown eyes. And maybe I’ll accidentally bump into you when I leave the room, so that when I apologize for doing so, you’ll look at me and say not to worry about it. And I won’t, because you will have said not to.
You’ll ask me to teach you to dance, even when I’ll be just as bad as you are. But I’ll learn you will touch me gently and gentlemanly, your hands never left my waist even when I expect them to. You’ll tell me bits and pieces about yourself, the good parts that I’ll come to love the most. Your favorite color is blue and you live alone. I respect you instantly; you deserve it.
We’ll write your bucket list together, and by that, I mean you’ll steal my dreams and write fill them in as your own. It will be a phone call that night, filled with ideas and stories and dreams and wishes. You’ll learn more of mine than I do of yours and it will leave me curious. You’re the only one who could do that to me; get me to talk about my dreams like that.
One day you’ll stand across from me in an almost parking lot and I’ll not be able to control myself. I’ll walk steadily three steps to you, press my lips to yours and wobble two steps backward. It will shock us both; I didn’t know I had it in me. You’ll smile, flustered, and I’ll race to my car as fast as my heart was racing towards my ribcage. Your lips tingled afterward, you said.
I’ll wear red lipstick and you’ll ask me why, but the day after I won’t and you’ll be pleased. You’ll want to really kiss me. Really kiss me. And I’ll meet you during class in a semi-secluded-yet-not courtyard, leaning down to part your lips on mine and the world will spin and time will end and it will be just us and the sounds of erratic breathing and your hand on my waist and your fingers in my hair and my pulling on your shirt and pulling you closer and tears I didn’t know wear in my eyes until I made my eyelids swallow them because I’d never felt that much that way before.
You'll tell me more about yourself and how you're broken. How you want a family. How you want to be loved and love back someday. You won't tell me that I will be the one you love, as I won't tell you that I already might. With each word you tell me, you'll become more and more beautiful inside and I'll wish to see your heart so I can fix it up and give it back if you want me to. You'll be someone I wish I was someone to. Because I'd never been that to someone before.
Hey. Hey you. I like you. I wish I was brave enough to tell you.
Hey. Hey you. I like you. I wish I was brave enough to tell you.
He's very beautiful, inside, in a way I can only capture vaguely.
Comments6
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
As much as I hate to Admit it this is actualy really really good.