"It is said that one cannot share the pride one experiences upon completing a meaningful task to another human being."

--

Tap.

It was impeccably difficult to keep my darting gaze-my thought off him.

Tap.

His back was a mere shadow- No. A silhouette, only made more appealing by the dim light seeping and pouring out of the weeping window. The sky was crying.

Tap.

I stared entranced as a pale, slender finger tapped the window ceasingly. As annoying was the sound, it was just that much more beautiful. I wanted to know more. Who was he? I wanted him, I knew it. My gaze was locked.

Why is he tapping?

Was he bored?

Morse Code?

What--or who was responsible for that solemn look I could see in his reflection? And why, why couldn't I look away? He turned around to face me, his picturesque face in deep mourning. My god, he was gorgeous. He was either a statuette or a doll. Something like him could not be real.

A single tear slid down his cheek.

And then he was gone.