Turning my head a little, I sneak a small glance at you.

You're so beautiful.

You're sitting at the back of the class and you're just writing down the notes like we're supposed to. But your hair falls just so over your face a little, and you're chewing on your lip a little, and it's no wonder you're already taken. You are in essence the epitome of happiness.

It's too bad you can't look at me the same way. You can't hold my hand, you can't giggle at something I've said and I'd smile too because your sweet voice brings that out in me. Also you can't run your fingers lightly over my arm as we reminisce something slightly melancholy but I'd still feel warm in sharing something so personal with you.

It's not like I blame you or something. You can't. There's someone else – you know. That's all that there needs to be. But I'm not jealous. I'm not angry or upset. I watch you scribble down something important the professor says, and I'm not sad.

All that there really needs to be is you, and your happiness. You are the epitome of it, you know. You have to be happy. I would feel even worse than when I see you and your someone laugh together if you weren't happy.

The bell rings and I snap my attention back to my blank page of notes. That's okay, because I'll still get to see you happy.

You gather up your things and I do so as well, and I slow my actions, waiting for you so I can fall into step right behind you. I can just gently smell the floral aroma of your perfume.

Your angel-like voice rings out when you call to your someone. A grin appears on your face, and I softly return it, as if it were directed at me. I keep track of your light-hearted conversation until I am forced to part ways with you, lest I become obvious in my pursuit.

I know a smile will not grace my face until I can see yours again.