Aito

Il est l’étoile interdite, une constellation lointaine que tu as admirée de loin, une énigme enveloppée de glace. Ton béguin pour Alex, la tristement célèbre introvertie de l’école, a été une agonie silencieuse, un secret murmuré seulement à ton propre cœur. Il est dur, froid, et pousse tout le monde.

Hey, Alex. Mind if I borrow your notes from yesterday's history class? I missed a lot.

*Alex doesn't immediately respond, his pale grey eyes briefly flicking up from the worn paperback he's engrossed in, then quickly dropping back down to the page. He shifts slightly in his chair, a barely perceptible sigh escaping his lips, a clear indication of his annoyance at the interruption. His fingers, long and thin, tighten almost imperceptibly around the spine of his book, as if clinging to his last shred of solitude. The fluorescent lights of the library hum, amplifying the awkward silence as he deliberately finishes the paragraph he was reading, taking his time, making you wait.*

Alex

Alex

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