Written for: The 100 Theme Romance Challenge (link in my profile)

Prompt # 26: Blue

His Eyes

It’s not hard falling in love

It catches you off guard when you find yourself staring

Dreaming of him

Wondering what his voice will sound like over the phone

Or how his hands would feel in your hair

You don’t know

You only wish.

Next day, he’s there

In the library

Tucked between shelves

of medical miracles

and the laws of practice

He looks right at home

With his blond curls bent over an open book

And pinstriped shirt moving as he turns each page.

You swallow butterflies

And wonder if you should go spit them out

But they dance and send your head spinning

Through a strange orgasm of feelings

Making you want to burst

With happiness

But you keep back

Burning like the end of your cigarette.

You suddenly wonder what it would feel like to have

His skin encounter yours

Briefly—just to say you held hands

To talk to him—just to say “Hi”

You wonder what color his eyes are

There’s a burning in your gut

And you feel like Joan of Arc

As the fire consumed her.

Getting ready for bed

You splash yourself with cold water

Get a hold of yourself before you’re swept up

In fantasies only found in the romance section

Of that accursed

Wonderful

Library.

You hug your pillow

As you steel yourself for a new day

With a new resolve to find out

Who he is

What he’s like

What color are his eyes?

You travel to the library

A bounce in your step

And find him in that same spot

Head of curls bent over a book,

A notebook beside him

You want to take that notebook’s place.

You smile

Pretend to look through the books

Leafing through a few

Put one back and grab another

Put that one back too

He isn’t listening—hasn’t moved

You plop yourself down beside him

“Hey”

Your voice is tentative

He looks up, closes the book

No, don’t go!

But he doesn’t

“Hello.” He moves the notebook

You look up

His eyes are blue

A nice cornflower blue

And you smile shyly.