Disclaimer: YES I've always wanted to make this claim. Not that there's much to claim anyway. Oh uh, right. The following contains brain farts extended along with bits of diarrhea. You've been warned.
I envision the scene to be played out with this.
After the breakup (Really liking this)
The first day they met,
It was like magic.
She walked into the room with an energy so upbeat and withheld at the same time that it was impossible not to notice her.
A smile that was both warm and distant,
A tight-lipped one that hinted at secrets and extreme differences.
Cascading curls reflecting the boring lights of the tense room, instantaneously catching the attention of many.
She wasn't pretty
Nor was she strikingly stunning.
Her face was oval, flat, with lips that quirked up at the ends randomly, discreet and as though it were at quiet inside jokes for her, and her alone.
Her eyes were a stark contrast from the rest of her otherwise plain and normal face.
They were an intense stare that threatened to penetrate armory people held so dearly onto, a soft blanket of warmth only the one huddled in it knew.
Dark green and with a silent and gentle sadness to it,
It left an impression.
It made her memorable even in dreams the days to come.
.
He however walked into the room with a less complex aura.
It was straightforward, yet musty as though it held a slight undertone to it.
Jet black hair gelled backwards to form a neat poof at the top, trimmed sides that emphasize the volume at the top, high forehead exposed,
Further elongating his face.
His eyes were focused,
On people and things alike
Yet it flicks away quickly at certain moments like he's uncomfortable with extended eye contact.
Layered,
It gives the first impression of cheerfulness and being lovable.
He laughed with his teeth showing,
Thin lips drawn upwards, exposing gums like there wasn't anything to be hid
Dark eyes twinkling and humorous.
Except that all one saw when eye contact was established
Was a wall.
A tall fence to be climbed,
A well of emotions within.
If his face were to be described
It would be average.
Average and poker-faced.
He was lanky and tall enough to be noticed
And he often looked deep in thought, slightly amused at the things he observes.
.
The moment she arrived,
He saw her.
The moment she arrived,
She saw him.
It was sparks.
The non-romantic kind,
The shivery kind.
The kind so rough and unlike smooth pebbles
The kind like sandpaper incapable of rubbing the sharpness off anything.
It was attraction at first sight
But it wasn't really.
Yet the two of them stared,
Stared hard, stared close.
Time was an incessant nag at the back of both their minds
But it was unnecessary and boring that way.
Neither of them had heard the other speak
They did not know of the voice and the brain
But they imagined.
His would be soothing and calm.
Hers would be smooth and confident.
Both of them would like completely contrasting music.
They would be very different and yet have things to talk about.
They would watch plays together, critique poetry and dance without grace to music within their heads, they would go traveling with toothbrushes, the clothes they have on and money, they would try out figure modelling despite being shy about nudity.
Both would be charming in the way they carried themselves.
Both would have tempers they controlled and seldom showed.
Both would be the type to take an eternity to know and understand.
So then they took steps toward one another
For it was clear
.
.
This was something they both wanted and knew.
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