I saw you again today. You didn’t see me though, you were just looking down at your phone. Such a little thing, such a small act. Such a small glimpse of you. And yet here I am, still thinking about it. About you. About everything.

Perhaps they, too, think of you in the dead of night. Perhaps they replay the short conversations you two shared, wondering if you’ll spark up conversation next time, wondering what you’ll be wearing, how you’ll react to their lectures. Perhaps they reread the assignments you’ve submitted, carefully taking in the way you write, the way you perceive the world. Perhaps every “hello” from you is heaven to them, and every time you leave is pure agony. Perhaps they, too, suffer from such an intense infatuation that they know they shouldn’t voice, staying forever silent and leaving you both in the dark as to how the other feels. Perhaps we’ll never know.

Sometimes I fall asleep thinking about you and dream you're here with me

the thought of sitting on his lap

why are the only people who are worth seducing are the ones i morally, should definitely NOT seduce