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One Shot
One-shot by D. Petrelli, as posted by Small Marshmallow
She was beautiful.
If only she knew.
She drew back the mousey brown hair sitting around her shoulders and just sat, silently reading Voltaire. He wished he was as smart as her.
His friends would call her names. She’d just walk by. He didn’t say a thing.
She was never popular, but she was always interesting.
The way she unfolded her lunch, tuna fish salad every Thursday, and the way the lettuce got stuck in her teeth. Her retainer shone in the afternoon sun like rays of god, calling to him. “Take a chance,” they said, but he never listened. The fear seeping through him made him deaf.
He should be courageous. He should be brave. He should be manly. But he couldn't. She made him weak.
Her lisp was like the sweet music composed by the Greek gods; the sirens calling him, drawing him in with their enchanting song.
She raises her delicate hand in math, it sways in the still air, moving on its own, a gesture for him to come closer. He wished he could, but he knew he couldn’t.
She raises her hand. Her mouth opens. His heart stops, pausing in suspense, waiting to hear her voice.
“Ithn’t the anther D, Mith Fisher?”
Oh, the sweet sound of her music.
Thursday at lunch she sat. By herself. She unwrapped her sandwich while he watched her from the corner of his eye.
The ringing in his ears deafened him. But he plucked up some resolve and stood.
His heavy foot moved forward.
A single step.
It seemed momentous, like the moon landing, like he should have something prepared. Like he should brace himself for what lay ahead.
He took another step. Two. Three. Four.
He got closer. She sat. The thick lens on the right side of her glasses formed a line of light, tracing his path ahead. He followed her radiance.
He lingered by her side, and suddenly, she looked up.
And smiled.
The glow of her grin soothed him.
And he sat.
This is a one-shot written by a friend. It was leant to me, and I thought it was well written and sweet, therefore Small Marshmallow has posted it.
Reviews are welcome, which will be forwarded to D. Petrelli.
