The Boy in Chemistry Class

He sits severed from me, surrounded by a blockade of AP books piled in a mess of homework and confusion. His deep chocolate brown hair slightly covers his rich chestnut colored eyes in a fury of twisted strands. Long, slender fingers raking through those wisps of hair, without snagging on a single knot, as they escape and then retreat back. A determined but puzzled expression applied perfectly upon his face as he stares at the disaster of homework lying in front of him on the table. The natural dark tan of his skin glows gently under the powerful florescent lights, releasing a multitude of lustrous and ornamental auburn tones.
Slightly slouched down in his seat, his slim legs outstretch and relax against the floor, allowing him to settle with easy comfort. The chilliness of the room suddenly swept over him, entrancing him to slide his ebony jacket up on to his broad and sturdy shoulders. This gliding movement catches my eyes and I become hypnotized, watching every joint in his body adjust to his craving of more warmth. When his adamantine eyes met mine in a paralyzing connection, I could not help but blush and glance back to my scrap of a piece of paper. I could feel those brunette eyes against my shoulders but I could not bear the idea of uniting his bold eyes with my apprehensive ones. At last, I can sense the release of his gaze and I again drift my eyes back to the strands of hair landing softly across his smooth and flawless face.
He shifts his pencil with a quick motion, creating symmetrical circles as he ponders how to solve his homework problems. The moment he figures out the solution, his pencil scribbles down a doodle of symbols and figures in a neat order across the faded lines of the paper.
My mind begins to spin as a feeling of butterflies builds up in my stomach. I watch his flowing body even more, with pure fascination. Alas, our eyes meet again and I glance away quickly as before. I hear his warming and melodious voice say my name quietly in a partially questioning way. His body becomes unsteady and I sense the movement of him standing and coming to me. I kept my back to him, afraid of the facial expression I might see if I looked at his magnificent face. His sweet breath landed lightly on my shoulders as his hand swept, ever so carefully, along the side of my neck. I could feel my heartbeat and breathing increase in speed as goose bumps began to rise on my pale skin.
Suddenly, the feeling disappeared and his hand was gone. I looked to see where he was sitting. His head was still down and his pencil was still scribbling away on the paper. Was this just a dream? Confusion reverberated around in my mind in desperate need to solve this mystery. It felt so real, so pure but I am mistaken. His eyes never met mine, his sweet breath never fell upon my shoulders, and his hand never ran along the side of my neck. It was all a dream and I had awoken from it with the hope that his majestic body would still be standing close to mine. I wanted the dream to return to me in a heartbeat, but it had disappeared completely, leaving me to observe him again.
And just when I thought I might return to my childish daydream again, he convened his eyes with mine. This time, I did not look away.





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