Her eyes were the color of maple leaves on a bright October afternoon, like dark chocolate consumed by flames. Even sitting a few seats away from her, he could just tell that eyes like those were magical. He saw her as light; the way she sipped her latte and swirled her pencil inside her journal just radiated the same golden hues as the sun. The amount of courage it took for him to simply peer up from his laptop and gaze at her was immense, but it would never compare to the impossible dream he had to approach her and say hello. Instead, he typed down words directly from his heart onto a blank document: “beautiful… warmth… gold…”

            To her, he seemed mysterious, with hair dipped in moonlight and strong hands that beat down on the keyboard of his laptop. She saw him as the darkness; he had stars in his navy eyes, connecting to create constellations across his irises. As he took a bite of his muffin, she wondered if she should walk up to him, or maybe slip her phone number under his laptop. Her heart throbbing, she immediately declined the idea, and focused on her journal instead. Sketching his midnight-painted cowlick and muscular torso, she longingly melted over her creations of ink.

            As the two went on never-ending rotations of glancing at one another, they left when it neared nine o’clock. Outside, the chilled breeze brushed against their skin; their eyes met for a split second, speaking to each other with the language of night and day. He offered her a half-smile, and she grinned, etching dimples into her scarlet-painted cheeks. The two walked opposite ways into the night, regret tainting their hearts.