''Hey...I wanted to say...'' she muttered as she saw him again. At the same place they met once, years ago - at the same place they simultaneously avoided to repeat the past.
''It's okay. You don't really need to.'' he said softly, barely inaudible, looking straight into her deep blue eyes.
''But...I actually need to. It's-''
''-I meant it. What is there else to say?'' he interrupted her firmly.
She glanced at him cautiously as she was going to scare him away and instantly shutter the invisble crystal ball they became part of. She looked up at him, but there was not any indication that he understood. Not like before, not like he used to.
''You are going to be late. The library should be closing down soon. I guess it's getting late.'' she heard herself speaking those words, but she has no recollection of meaning them. Why did she say all this? She did not want him gone, of course not. She let her frantic thoughts chase one another in her mind.
He looked at her questionably and shook his head lightly.
She frowned and bit her lips anxiously. What else could she do or say, he was disappointed, or worse - she met his bitter expectations once again. But this time it was different. They were. At the same place, little before five o'clock, little before they would finally part ways or delude themselves until their next encounter.
''Er, you are right, there might not be much left, but...what if there is? Plenty of? And now meeting you again...Forget it, I should go.'' she said and sighed staring at the muddy spots on her converses, thanks to the recent rain, and all the crumpled yellow leaves covering the ground. Anything, but him, his warm hazel eyes and those long dark eyelashes that framed them.
He stood there motionless without a word for few seconds that felt like minutes and impatiently ran fingers through his sandy blonde hair.
''Alright. I need to catch up on all this anyway...'' he said glancing at the small neat pile of books tucked under his hand.
''Ah yes, sorry. Don't get overworked, you will do well.'' she mumbled smiling as she rushed to climb up the stairs and get into her faculty building before it starts raining again, or before she changes her mind and go after him. She could not tell the difference.

Even If

My writing inclination often strikes me when I am least able to write, and recently it chooses to take place in the bus. By all means, writing there could be manageable, but somehow I prefer to avoid my over-weirdness being exposed as I scribble in a notebook with strangers peeking over my shoulder.
...

Quet. This is how my mind has been lately, doing everything in my power to ignore all of the unnecessary. Including you. It was one of this frivolous moments when the sun reminded me how to be happy on my own unusual and messed-up way. Even if...
But things happen for a reason, they are exactly the way they should be, and all that jazz. Or perhaps is it another thing we mutter to each other for the sake of comfort?
And here I am wondering what to do.
Now that I know blue is one of your favourite colours. That your deep hazel eyes acquire a shade of faint soft green upon the direct sunlight in an ordinary chilly March day. And that beyond this well-built facade of confidence and determination, is hiding a brief awkward smile of a boy, which drives me to want knowing more of you.
It is pointless to say that none of this originated from my initial intentions. When I started this game, it was never part of the equation. Ironically here I am writing this, now that I am left with the only option of avoiding. You and all the emotions that arise in me when we accidentally catch a glimpse of each other for few scarce seconds. Even if...