He watched her perched on her chair so delicately. He could almost taste the energy vibrating off of her. Every aspect of her was vibrant and alive, but yet graceful and serene. He could not suppress a small curve of his lips as he smiled in memory of every second she’d been at his side.

He could still recall the first time he’d lain eyes on her. She had been dressed in a small, green and brown blouse that perfectly acknowledged, but did not flaunt, her small, petite frame. She had been relentlessly chattering to her older sister. His large, sunken emerald eyes had a light of interest sparked in them. What was it about her bouncing, amber curls or her constant grin that had made him so curious? He would never know. He would never understand. But… he enjoyed the mystery of his feelings and the glowing touch she passed to all.

“Hello! Steve, right?”

Those had been her first words to him.

He had squinted his eyes playfully at her, not even bothering to tear his eyes away as an elderly lady shook his hand in greeting.

“Yes, and your name is?”

“Audrey.”

She had replied simply.

“My name’s Audrey.”

From that moment on he had kept his eyes glued to her. As he sat in choir, he was always careful to keep his head directed towards the piano, but his eyes directed towards her. Why? He was always asking himself. Why her? Out of every girl he knew, every one that it could possibly work with, that is, why her? But, deep inside his soul, he knew the true answer to that question, but never expressed them in words.

So much had happened between them since that first introduction. He’d always had a mental image plastered against his mind of them being two different quilt patterns. Hers were strong and vivacious colors that worked together as smoothly as the colors of the sunset, and his were deep and majestic colors that complimented those of her quilt. And the more they spoke and the more they stared into the other’s pupils, the closer they were knit. Every time a new common ground was discovered, another thread passed between the fabrics. And after it was sewn there, the quilts were drawn closer together. It was a beautiful picture to him and he always dreamed of asking her to draw it for him. Yes, she could draw. She often made references to fine art work and artists. It only made him that much more curious.

But yet, inside of all her liveliness and passion laid a small stone of pain that she so desperately struggled to hide.

It was loneliness.

He could still remember that night seemingly so long ago now. She and he had been leaning against the bumper of his rundown, green car that was in wanting of a better paint job. Both her hands had been resting against the curve of the trunk door, elbows cocked out behind her.

Stars sparkled like glitter against the black sheet of night. He had so wanted to say the exact right things at the exact right timing. Sweat had pushed itself all over his hands and he’d nervously crossed his arms in an attempt to hide it.

The conversation had started as normal. Laughter first, and later more personal information, but this… this had developed into the innermost personal thoughts of her intriguing mind.

“I’m so alone,” she had whimpered, her whispery breath wafting away with the breeze. “I just need a friend!”

Her shoulders had begun to quake ever so slightly. Her breathing had become labored no matter how hard she struggled to make it steady. And, in the silhouette of the nightly lights, he could make out a small, salty tear slowly moving down her light pink cheek.

Without knowing how else to respond, he had gently whisked his first three fingers across the backside of her hand. A small flinch in her thumb had been the only indication she had even felt it. And then, he did something that he knew he would always live to regret…

He was silent.

He did not respond other than that one touch. He did not offer his care nor his friendship. And in a word, he had been stunned. How could someone so beautiful, so graceful, so friendly, so… perfect, be so alone?

But tonight had to be his night. And as he sat there with his light, mousy hair brushing his eyelashes that blinked over his sunken, emerald eyes, he knew that he just had to tell her.

She turned to him. His heart sank into a pit of hopeless of passion as their eyes met. Animated lights and emotions shot from her expression as she gazed upon him.

“I love this game!” she proclaimed.

He smiled in return and offered a humble, “Me too.” And at that moment, he knew he did… now.

She was speaking to him again while gathering up her belongings around her.

“I have to go, Steve, but tonight was a blast! I’ll see you Sunday?”

He nodded his head while again grinning. Before he himself understood his actions, he gently ran his first three fingers across the soft, backside of her hand. She grinned affectionately at him and seemed to be pained to pull her hand away to pick up her dropped paper.

“You can sit with me.”

“Cool. I'll plan on it. Bye, Steve!”

And she cheerily, but calmly, trotted towards the door to leave. Her luscious, amber hair flowed out behind her as her legs moved gracefully across the ground to carry her like an angel out of his sight.

And as he caught the last glimpse of her smiling face, he whispered, “I love you.”