Papillon Parisien

There was a boy.

There was also a girl.

They lived in different worlds, but saw each other every day.

She was innocent and wary, and shied away from his gaze; all the while looking on longingly when his attention was elsewhere.

He was strong, handsome, and athletic.

She was cute and clumsy in a coy, detached manner…

She observed and took in all around her. Imbued with it she would create and draw.

She thought about him all the while, whether he was playing rugby or football, or with another girl, intimately embracing her between vanilla-scented sheets. She thought about it until the pencil in her hand shook and the paper before her turned and took up his features no matter how much she told it not to. Tormented, she threw away her artworks, and hid inside herself, afraid they would consume her. Restless, she could not bring herself to focus on or care about anything.

He had asked for her number. Terrified and filled with adrenaline, she had parted with it. 

He had texted her, she had slid him a cupcake in the dark.

What had happened?

She could not comprehend. He ignored her. She wept, shoulders shaking with the silent unheard sobs provoked by an oblivious womanizer.

Her beautiful almost-lover. 

<3