/lit/ - Literature

With overflowing confidence in his gaze, his smug gird and relaxed features, he gets up from his seat as soon as he sees her do the same. "She's leaving the train, think of something" the back of his mind mutters to him. "She's leaving the train! she's already outside! do something!" again as he hastens his march.

The automatic doors close behind him, almost catching his foot, and his eyes do a one hundred and eighty degree scan around the station. "Uh, sorry, have you seen a girl around here? she's short and wears a hat the same color of her hair" he asks a random passerby. "Uh sorry pal, no clue" and then he resumes his walk. "Shit, this is your fault" his mind chastises him. "Let's see, she couldn't have gone far" he mutters to himself, absolutely ignoring whatever rebukes his mind has for him right now.

He walks towards a vending machine while looking left and right doing calm and natural moves that are soft on his neck. He looks down and looks for some spare change in the pockets of his dark brown jacket. "Holy shit! she's there!" his mind suddenly wakes him up. She's, indeed, there. She's holding a brown polystyrene cup showing an almost invisible trail of steam with her tiny hands that are almost completely covered by her sweater's brown sleeves. He inhales deeply through his mouth and exhales calmly through his nose. An icy and ephemeral cloud of breath is outside his system and now he's ready to talk to her. "Don't fuck this up" his mind advises him.

With a confident step and his light brown boots protecting his feet from the savage winter frost he walks towards her. He pokes her tiny shoulder with his index finger and she turns around, her brunette locks jump with the sudden action. He hunches his back a bit and lowers his face at the level of hers. "Hey, thanks for carrying my backpack the other day" he says with confidence overflowing from his every pore. She quivers in place with her mouth slightly open and showing just the tip of her cute white teeth. Her flushed lips, kept pure in the frost of the winter cold tempt him and successfully lead him into kissing her out of the blue, but not as sudden or quick as someone who believes in failure, unlike our protagonist. No, instead it was slow and warm, he never even thought of failure being a possible scenario and gave it his all. After all, he was made and raised this way: a happy fool through and through. Memories from childhood, the yesteryear glee and a cute girl offering him to carry his backpack for him on a hot summer day seven years ago walk together by the hand on the beautiful cornflower-colored dawn that is his mind at this very moment.