#sensitive boy

Imagine obsessing over a classmate in your creative-writing course. A mousy boy who catches your attention in the college-library, spotted lingering behind a large crowd.

He had looked nervous, like he could run off any second. His hands shakily held a pile of books, while he tried to maneuver around the loitering friend-group.

Needless to say, he had you hooked.

Maybe you were just curious, because you had seen him be praised by the professors before, but he seemed to disappear every single time you tried to investigate further. Here, however, you could see him plainly; a frowning face to connect to the intelligent shadow you'd vaguely seen before.

When you began to get closer to him, intrigued by his reserved nature and easy-to-miss intelligence, he was as meek as you'd expected him to be.

You hadn't expected things to spiral as fast as they did, however. One thing just led to another. Peer-reviewing sessions, shared lunches, and library-walks just began to unravel your possession of him. For whatever reason, his sensitive personality kept pulling you in closer. You would joke about one of his drafts being terrible, because of one grammatical hiccup, and he'd be close to tears.

You never had power like this before. It was kind of nice.

But you'd never call your love shallow. He was good company, and the teary eyes that he showed you were just a bonus. It was like a constant switch between genuine companionship, and your need to push his buttons to see how far you could go.

He was just too easy. Too willing to cling to you, and especially too cute.

The professor began to recognize you two as a duo. He'd partner you two up for his star student's comfort, because everyone knew that you're the only one who could tolerate his stammering voice. It was almost like your responsibility to take care of him. A pride, to you.

(But if you started glaring at anyone who did try to get close to him... well, nobody needed to know.)

You were lucky that you didn't need to admire him from a distance. If he was a little bit more guarded, things would be tricky. But instead, you could leave straight-forward messages for him in his books. Sticky-notes with penned hearts, candies, pressed-flowers...

...Threats in the margins of romantic-quotes, your bloody thumb-print where he'd turn the page...

Yes. You were very lucky. Lucky to have such an obedient boyfriend, who would see these things and never blink twice. Lucky to have a best-friend, with big, wet eyes that cried to you if he was struggling. Lucky to have a dog, who trails after you, lost, because you're the loveliest person he's ever met.

You're strange to some, and sometimes you scare him... but he promised to be yours, and he'd hate to break your heart. You're just too good to him.