I know I shouldn’t want her, but I do. I watch her across the classroom every day. I can pick her laugh across the school yard. I know the sound of her key rings slapping against her bag. I know what gloss she buys for her lips, and what perfume she wears. And I love how she smells.
That scent haunts me.
Last night as I lay in bed all I could think about was her scent. And how much better she would smell, closer to me. Without the uniform. In my bed. With me. And I remembered the time I asked about her lip gloss and she held it under my nose to smell. How I didn’t even inhale because I was burning up. Amazed she would get that close to me. How her wrist was right there. How her lips moved so close to mine.
But right now I want to get into bed and think about her lips. And my lips. And I might even bite on my own lip for a while. And imagine.