He likes to find happiness in the slightest of things.
The smell of a bakery, the wetness of a puppy’s nose.
The flowers raining down on a particularly windy spring day, the tiny rainbows trapped in soap bubbles….. and her.
Though, to be fair, she couldn’t exactly be considered a ‘small’ thing- unless, of course, one was describing her height.
There was happiness in watching the grace with which she took others’ comments on her physique. The way her black eyes showed a tint of brown in the sun. How her hair, though short, managed to dance along with the breeze.
There was sweetness in her smile, how one little tooth always popped out mischievously. There was sweetness in her voice, neither too soft nor gruff, but just the right note to tug on his heartstrings.
There was beauty in her mind, there was thought behind her words. She was more than just a pretty face, though he’s mature enough to admit that it was the ‘prettiness’ that had attracted him at first.
Her physical beauty drew him in. Her inner shine kept him a willing prisoner.
It was quite easy to hide his feelings from her. She was quite dense when it came to such matters, and for once he was thankful.
Those who know, though, encourage him to grow a pair and confess. Some even have the gall to promise that she loves him as well.
He is conflicted. He loves her, but he also doesn’t have an urge to make her love him back. Sure, there are casual daydreams of his hand in hers and all that stuff, but the reality they share- this bond that neither of them can name- is more than enough.
He feels proud when others speak of her, and when some friend drunkenly confesses to love her he is more than ready to help said guy out. Why? Because the guy is all kinds of wonderful and she deserves someone that devoted. Not him- not a wisp of a person who can’t even decide what he wants her to be for him.
He tries to calm his racing heart whenever her fingers brush against his, once too often to be unconsciously. He tries to forget the words of love and the endearments and convinces himself that it’s all platonic. He scolds himself every time his mind wanders to a world where she loves him.
Because he’s scared of hoping and having his heart broken at the end, but he’s also scared of being together and not being what either of them expected.
“You two are so close. Are you sure neither of you are into each other?”
He looks at his friend, the nervous boy in front of him, and sees someone who is willing to take the chance he is too cowardly to embrace.
“Don’t worry.” He grins wryly. ” We’ve always been just friends.”
Loving her has taught him to lie through his teeth.