Friday, February 26, 2010

Arch Nemesis.

He's behind me. And when he is silent, my ears prickle at his soft breathing. But when he speaks, oh when he speaks, my whole body tenses like a hound dog catching the scent of a red fox. Desperately I try to force his voice from my hearing but his muted mumbling resounds through my entire being. He speaks low and deep as a man yet a soft, raised pitch reminds me he is just a boy. Part of me is memorized and another part is clawing in fear at my skin from the inside out. A voice has never affected me as his does and for months, I've been exposed to it yet the fire it ignites still burns as hot as the first day. He's completing his thought now as the embers dwindle and he stops speaking. I want to look. I want to look so badly at him but should he catch my eye... I mustn’t look, I tell myself. Picking up the charcoal colored Papermate pencil, I try to focus my miniscule attention span on the trigometric identities before me. But my traitorous mind begins to whisper excuses to turn around. Heels clicking down the hall. Seconds ticking in the clock. Fingertips rapping on the desk. Shoes tapping against the stained carpet. Don't succumb, I plead in my thoughts but suddenly he exhales and I turn. My shoulders twist more than they should as I toss my head around and my movements are noticed. Or was he already watching me? Our eyes meet but for a brief second before my gaze shifts to the glaring clock. Casually yet with a racing heart I turn back and pretend to adore my mathematical equations. Except all the formulas are unloved. No, only one though is truly on my mind.

My Arch Nemesis has ice blue eyes...

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