#danimagine

Her

Hour: ???  I am still seat-bound to a scarcely padded aluminum chair on the third floor of the University library.The table before me is littered with common-college-student-cramming-for-final-exams-type crap. I feel my eyes beginning to blur, and my pile of papers slowly morphs into a giant, multicolored (if daunting) blob. The library is serenely silent, and almost cozy, if not for the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights overhead. I blink and gaze dumbly out of the giant arch window next to me. Despite the wintry weather, a steady stream of students march along the sidewalk, backpacks bulging and earbuds slipped in. I watch the scene with a cow-like interest, as one would watch mindless television.

  That's when I notice the boy. Mostly because he's standing perfectly still in the middle of the sidewalk. Tall, dark-haired, and even from here I can see the rich chocolate of his eyes. Of course, part of that could be due to the fact that he's staring straight at me. I'm too surprised to react, at first. Besides from the fact that I didn't know it was possible to make unplanned eye contact from three stories up, I'm wondering, naturally: who, what, why, and how. My ninth grade journalism teacher would be proud.

  It is at this point in my lagging, brain-fried inner monologue that I realize he's looked away. I'm surprised, again, because generally in any sort of awkward social encounters I'm the one who breaks contact. But no - the boy is now speed-walking away, head held low. Maybe it was a shadow caused by the early evening sun, but I swear I saw a red flush creeping up his neck, like a rash.

  I'm still not sure whether to consider the incident creepy, coincidental, or cute. I suppose it's whatever I decide, and I choose on a mixture of the three. (Although mainly, being a hopeless romantic, the last one.) I decide, somewhat arrogantly, that the boy, whoever he is, has secretly admired me from afar for a number of months. (creepy+cute) Then, one day, while innocently passing by the library at the perfect time, he happens to look up at just the right moment to make eye contact with me. Yes, totally, plausible! I laugh at myself, both out of annoyance and awe for my unlikely but highly optimistic explanation. Suddenly I remember I'm in public, and that my laughter sounds insane, as there is nothing in front of me but notes on Alexander the Great.

Him

I feel a bit like a cynical New- York- writer-type, the kind who are always slightly tipsy and walk with their heads down, the ones that wear trench coats and mutter under their breath about the stupidity of humanity. Except I'm a twenties-something college student with a One Direction backpack. (I'm using it ironically, y’know.) The whole-hating-humanity-thing though? I could totally get behind that. I mean, I don't necessarily hate humanity, I just have a serious problem with people who decide the hallway/sidewalk/other narrow public space is really their own personal garden path, and they are merely taking a lovely little stroll. And don't even get me started on couples. If you want to walk in the park, GO TO THE PARK.

  I'm mentally taken aback by how angry I've become in a matter of seconds. Of course, I've had a crap morning. Basically, I overslept and missed my trigonometry final, and now it's a race against time (and the Uni gods) to beg my professor for mercy. Trigonometry. I snort. Yep, totally and completely useful class. I mean, really? Because a mugger is obviously going to approach you and go, "Alright, mate, give me your iphone."  And then, you would clearly reply with omething along the lines of "No, good sir, for I have the POWER OF TRIANGLES." I imagine this line spoken with a super lame voice effect, complete with primary colored triangles shooting from your hand like a bad children's cartoon. I laugh, and add it to my ever-expanding list of Videos to Make. By now, I'm laughing embarrassingly hard, imagining the scene, and I trip. Up the sidewalk.

  I sigh/laugh at my complete lack of grace and dignity, and clamber to my feet, freezing for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. That's when I see her.

  She's sitting behind an arch window, bent over intently, presumably studying. Her profile almost seems to be glowing, and even though I can't make out her exact features, my stomach flips, because every inch of her has been imprinted in my mind since the first time I saw her. Freshmen year, pre-calculus. (Some maths are, in fact, useful.) It was a hot August day, and she walked in late to class...with a Starbucks cup in her hand. I nearly burst out laughing, seeing a meme come to life. But I didn't. Because she was beautiful. Her skin was the color of a smooth ocean rock, her eyes the color of dancing waves. Hair fit for a mermaid and a mouth in the shape of a ship ready to set sail. I observed her, carefully and as un-creepily as possible in the next few weeks. I was searching for flaws, a shark in the water. Unsurprisingly, I found none, aside from her lack of punctuality. (She was also horrible at math. I once would glanced at her test scores and my eyebrows nearly dropped off.) But it didn’t matter, honestly. She was kind and intelligent and one time she picked up my pen when I dropped it and I reached for it with shaking fingers, praying she wouldn’t notice.  She was exquisite, exotic, extraordinary. And, best of all: she existed. She was real. She was real and tangible, yet entirely unattainable. She was the ocean and I was a single speck of sand. This, however, did not stop me from dreaming about her constantly, in a way that would make my friends cringe and bring about a slew of mockery. Hell, it made me cringe. I would be doing some completely mundane action, such as laundry, and she would crash over me like a wave, and suddenly I swear she was there, or at least it felt like she was, sitting on top of the washer, kicking her legs and telling me a story, and I’d make fun of her voice because it was vibrating with the machine, and she’d – Oh. Gods. I was even embarrassing myself. Except… I reminded myself. Except this time she was here. In the flesh. Three stories away, but here, not only in my mind’s eye. And that counts for something.

My train of thought screeched to a halt, and with a sudden flash of horror, I realized I’d been staring at her the entire time I’d been thinking.  How long had it been? 7 seconds? 3 minutes? 2 years?  A lifetime? I had no idea, and the worst part was, she was staring back at me.

Here is what happened next. It is wholly true, I swear on the Supreme Wizard of Maltesers, but I know no one will ever believe me. I don’t even know if I believe myself, but this is what I felt: Time froze. Every cell in my body performed an acrobatic leap. (I’m sorry, but I literally cannot think of a less flamboyant way to describe it.) Every cell in my body sang, and for a brief, fleeting, beautiful moment, I actually considered doing something. Anything. Waving. Climbing up the side of the library building, bursting through the window, and kissing her the way she deserved to be kissed, while shards of glass rained down around us. And then, as quickly as my fantasy occurred, I heard the pieces of glass hit the floor, sounding like hail hitting a frozen lake. I felt every cell in my body crash to the ground. It was like someone had driven a nail into my chest, with a hammer. Shattering me from the inside out.

And like a coward, I slunk away. My eyes glued themselves to my shoes, and I placed one foot in the front of the other, each step heavy as stone. I was disappointed, both in myself and in the world, for lining up all the miniscule and minute factors to lead this crashing crescendo of a moment, plucking me from the dry dirt and plunging my raw, fresh heart into a sea of false hopes and mad, unhealthy inexplicable infatuation.

So I slunk away, dragging my feet like a rock refusing to be carried by the wind. I was heart-deep in self-pity and regret when I heard the sound. I still don’t know what it was, to this day. I hold the belief, albeit secretly, it was the gods, or God, singular, clinking his Spoon of Fate against an empty cup and it echoed all the way down to Earth. Whatever you believe, it made me turn around, and without meaning to my eyes immediately found the third story arch window.  My cells sang and danced and performed. There was an entire circus inside of me. She was still there, staring at me – but there was a smile playing on her lips, and when she saw me, she waved. A slow, unassuming but utterly assuring wave that crashed over me like a million shards of invisible, painless glass, each one reflecting the brilliant light of her eyes.

A/N: there are literally so many flaws with this imagine like um castastrophic mary sue characterization for girl + dan, the ocean metaphors were nicholas sparks worthy ie gag worthy, dan’s bit = overly detailed and longer that hers, also don’t even get me started on grammar errors ergh im sorry wait *dan voice* btw i wrote this entire imagine """""ironcally"""" so uhhh i didnt really mean it l o l pls dont hit me