You Soft and Lonely/You Lost and Lonely III

Please read the first two parts to fully understand this entry.

You Soft and Lonely/You Lost and Lonely pt.III

"Angelika," I said, glaring into her eyes that read that she no longer wanted anything to do with me. "...No one will have to know."

She shook her head vigorously at my remar, swaying her dark locks from left to right. "We can't. I can't." she protested.

Feeling slightly aggrivated with her stubborn resistance, I replied "Then why did you tell me to come here today?" Both she and I know it isn't for mathmatical "Guidance" like she had mentioned before.

Angelika paused, either pondering on a way to explain herself, or refusing to answer back altogether. Her eyes then turned and narrowed back at me.

"I can't believe I'm about to tell you this." she said, shutting her eyes shamefully as she gnawed down on her bottom lip.

I nodded tightly, insisting her to continue on. My two palms becoming moist with anxiety for the words to soon be spoken from her mouth.

"I cannot life." she said, re-opening her eyes and adjusting them back on me. "Week after week, I became more and more joyous for your worsening grade. I thought of it as even more of an excuse for me to spend time with you outside of my class." My horrible math skills making someone happy? That is almost as strange as how thankful I am right now for it.

My ears delighted by the remark, but my mind in a twist. "So why did you not schedule to tutor me the first or second time after I bombed a test?" I asked. "Why wait for the well, I don't know; fourteenth time?"

While peering at her face, I'd never seen her look so beautiful. This Angelika Haven makes me want to leap out from the desk I am seated in and press my lips against hers with all my strength. Ms. Haven, my Algebra II teacher, on the other hand, made me focus on doing another kind of physical activity with her.

In this moment, as I sit inside of the quite, dimly lit classroom, I see a girl. A girl who isn't as flawless and porcelain as the woman she projected outward for everyone else to see, though it is all right. The scratches, the cracks, the dirt are all okay. I see incredible beauty in honest imperfection.

"I thought maybe," she giggled a slight laugh and shook her head with a small smile. "Maybe, you would be more and more desperate with every bad score given." she added. "Maybe, you would be more and more willing to picture yourself with me."

My vocal chords wanting to yell out "What?!" at the top of my lungs in the loudest volume was only held back by my conscious pleading for me to not ruin and perish everything I invisioned only in my day dreams, though agreeing with my thoughts; why would a woman as stunning as herself even question or doubt the slightest possibility of a boy my age, my appearance to not find myself attracted to her? Like a house of playing cards, or a closeted alcoholic actress, Angelika Haven definitely isn't as put together as one may believe.

"Then it hit me." she added. "After I told you to come here yesterday, I came to my senses." she said, straightening out her voice and clearing her throat, sounding more assertive.

"No one has to know!" I insisted, bolting up from my seat, nearly having the desk turn over and clash down to the linoleum floor with an ear-splitting clack. "I know you are only holding yourself back from this because of the possibilities of what could happen if someone were to find out about the two of us, or worse; what that person would think if they were to find out."

Her face stunned by my outburst, looks in a bit of shock.

I eased my way closer to her, her body remaining seated in her chair behind her desk. Her eyes following my every slight motion, and giving me the stare that my recent acclamations were not false.

Lowering my face down to hers, I said "Isn't that the problem? You wish for everyone to have a picture perfect preception ofyou. That is why you keep yourself distant from everyone else, since, like any other person, if everyone got the chance to know the true you, not everyone would like that person."

"Wyatt," she whispered. "I just-"

"Why feel the need to be perfect?!" I called out. I want Angelika to give in already, to resist whatever the self-conscious voice in her head is insisting for her to do or say. I want her to hurry up and let me in, to allow me in. "Perfect or not, Angelika, I'd have you either way."

Looking into her deep, green eyes, she gazed back into mine.

"Your eyes are gray." Angelika said softly. "I've never noticed." This meaning she has never looked so closely into my stare as she is now. From afar, they look of brown, but up close my eyes are a dark shade of gray. Similar to used charcoal or burned ash. Only ones who glance deeply into my eyes can notice the odd coloring of them.

I nodded, not knowing how to reply to the comment.

Moving my face nearer to her own, I caught sight of her rose-hued lips. Oh, how badly my body yearns to feel them, touch them, kiss them with my own. Noticing my eyes bouncing up and down from her narrow, green eyes to her round, red lips, she okay-ed with a small nod.

Immediately, I caressed my thin lips against her lavish, full pair. Though, not having much experience in the making out department, everything came as natural as my blossoming feelings for her.

This is the type of connection a couple should have; primarily romantic. Willow differs from this, for she is my best friend, and even if it brings water to her chocolate, brown eyes, I want it to stay that way. I need it to stay that way.