How She Shines

Her hair got caught in the sky as she passed; golden strands, brighter than any sun yet softer than any flower. It took me by surprise, the way it framed her cheeks like the most perfect imperfect picture. She was an unfinished painting, spilling out the edges of her canvas. How brightly she shone, a warm joy that hit me like a hurricane. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her despite knowing that the path ahead of me was turning soon and if i didn’t look away, i’d surely run into a tree. I couldn’t shake her smile, slightly crooked on the left side, creating dimples in her sandy complexion. Chestnut and wheat, those were her colours.

I saw her every day on the walking path, but she always took me by surprise. Never in my life had i seen someone as cute as her. Her smile was more precious than gold and sweeter than honey. It fit perfectly on her face, sitting just below her rounded glasses. She blushes, sometimes. When her friends tease her for how she speaks, or, sometimes, when i catch her staring. It’s hard to notice in contrast to her pinecone coloured cheeks, but i notice it.

The mid-spring breeze is warm, and despite that, she still wore her argyle jumper as she walked the path. She seemed to have one for every day of the week; grey for those somber mondays, pink for those perfect saturdays, and, brown for her serious sundays, to name a few. Yellow and green, though, was her favourite. It showed so much love in it’s careful wear and tear. It told stories, it shared memories. Only she could read it, but i know it made her smile.

Her eyes caught mine as she passed and my heart froze. Oh, her eyes. They were the best shade of hazelnut. It was the best shade, simply because it was her shade. They were small and slightly angled, curving up in a permanent smile. It made her feel so pleasant. All i wanted to see was how they looked when she saw something amazing, something awe inspiring. I wanted to see them light up at the annual fireworks festival, to watch them scrunch up with tears - only the good kind, though, shed for that one sad moment in a romcom. I want to see them bloom at her books, too, or, maybe just how they brighten so gleefully when she talks of her passions. Oh how i long to see that.

Opposite to her eyes was her nose; wide and flat, just barely fitting between the lenses of her glasses. It was cute too, just another part to love.

My friends tease me, at times, at how obvious i am. I am not subtle, i can’t be, not when she’s standing right there. Ignoring her would be like ignoring the mona lisa at a museum. It’s an impossibility.

She glances away shyly, only to glance back with a hopeful kind of hesitance. We stare quietly, like a mutual exchange. It’s important, it’s delicate. My heart flutters a little and i almost can’t breathe. Her look, so similar to mine, so knowing, fills me to the brim. We understand one another. It warms her, yet scares me. But it’s a good kind of scared; an excited kind of scared, like the peak before the drop of a rollercoaster.

She slows her pace, so i can cross the path to meet her. I can see her shake her phone a little at me, like an invitation. I’m distracted, only for a second, by the dog phone charm hanging from it. It’s cute, just like her. I look back up to return a smile, lighter than air, and turn to meet her.

And i’m in the pond.

With a splash and a flail, i slip into the drink dividing the two paths. I get a very quick, very cold reminder of the pond’s existence. It’s not deep, maybe just up to my knees, but somehow i managed to drench myself up to my waist. My cheeks burn, thinking i may have missed my chance, when i hear a chime above me. It’s a soft giggle, softer than silk. I glance up, met with the brightness of the sunshine - *her* sunshine. She offers me a hand, smiling with gentle amusement, and as i take it, i feel my whole world complete itself.

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