Little June
stared at the boy by the window.
He was
sitting quietly with a book in his hand, occasionally taking sips from his
white porcelain cup.
Little June
didn’t know what he was reading, but she liked the flicker in his eyes as he
skimmed through the pages.
Now and
then his hair would fall across his eyes, yet it didn’t seem to bother him.
Little June thought it was good. She wouldn’t have the nerve to push it aside anyway, though she had always wanted to do it.
Little June thought it was good. She wouldn’t have the nerve to push it aside anyway, though she had always wanted to do it.
The boy shifted
in his seat.
Little June looked away. She didn’t want to get caught for staring too much. But how could she not?
Little June looked away. She didn’t want to get caught for staring too much. But how could she not?
She liked
the way his gaze fell upon things in his sight, and the way he absentmindedly
parted his lips in a reverie.
She thought that staring at him must be a sin, for it was thrilling and terribly gratifying.
She thought that staring at him must be a sin, for it was thrilling and terribly gratifying.
The boy
would chuckle once in a while. Little June wondered what he found so funny in
that book. But not as much as she wondered how far she would drown in the
pleasant sound of his laughter.
Just as Little
June noticed his now empty cup, the boy laughed one final time as he closed the
book before him.
“There really is nothing as peculiar and intoxicating as love,” he calmly said as he put down the book. Then he looked at her with a delicate smile. “Don’t you think so, June?”
“There really is nothing as peculiar and intoxicating as love,” he calmly said as he put down the book. Then he looked at her with a delicate smile. “Don’t you think so, June?”
Little June
looked down on her lap where her nervous hands rested. She could never look
back into those eyes for too long without ever feeling timid. But they were so
affectionate and comforting that she couldn’t stand not to look at them again.
Little June
was about to answer when his leg met hers under the table, and she was at loss
for words. Good God, how could she even breathe in peace when he was around?
“It’s
getting dark. Should we get going now?” He started packing his bag.
Little June wished they could stay longer, just so she could stare at him a little more in that lovely ray of dusk coming through the window.
Little June wished they could stay longer, just so she could stare at him a little more in that lovely ray of dusk coming through the window.
“Yes,” she
quietly replied, not to the last question, but to the first.
The boy sent her another heartwarming smile, and Little June wished that was all she could see.
The boy sent her another heartwarming smile, and Little June wished that was all she could see.
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