Disclaimer: I don't own GRK, the lucky bastards down at ABC Family have that privilege.
He's too everything. Too beautiful not to be noticed. Too brilliant to be ignored. Too genuine to be hated. And it's too difficult to discard your emotions when you've spent years pretending to be over him.
The ethereal cerulean of his eyes. The cocoa mess of his tangled hair. The exquisite pull of his bee stung lips into the trademark smirk designed to make women fall at his feet.
You're always freshman Casey when your leaf green eyes catch his cerulean blue. It's completely unfair how your breath hitches in your throat when your name rolls off his tongue. Sweet like warm honey, overwhelmingly intoxicating.
"Hey Case."
With a skilled eye, he scans you from the tips of your toes to the curve of your waist to the heft of your breast to the heart shape of your face. His eyes finally rest on yours and he grins.
He's too unnerving, too smart, too deliberate. The bastard.
You wish that you could hate his blatant admiration, but, honestly, he gives your world color. He replaces the gaps where cloudy grey dominates with deep plum, seductive raspberry, juicy blueberry, and lively apple green.
He's beautiful in a way that you can't shake.
Your whole body flushes when he brushes his arm against yours as he turns towards the Lancaster Parks Building. He smiles out the side of his mouth. The grin blossoms and melts into the late October afternoon.
"Hey Cap."
You return his smile, butterflies dancing crazily in your rib cage, making the beat of your heart at least twenty times faster. If people are rain, then you are a drizzle. He's a hurricane.
It's been almost four years now, and you wonder if any other man will have this effect on you. Doubtful, since he has too much of your heart, too much of your soul, too many of your memories for you to care.
It's just too bad that you were too late.
She's too everything. Too beautiful not to be noticed. Too brilliant to be ignored. Too genuine to be hated. And it's too difficult to discard your emotions when you've spent years pretending to be over her.
The soft leaf green of her eyes. The golden topaz of her silk locks. The perfectly pink sea shell shaped lips. The hypnotizing perfume coming from her luminous skin.
It's a late October afternoon when you spy the little minx by your coffee cart. Sometimes she thinks she is so clever. Not that you mind her being there at all, it just makes your decision seem stupider every day.
You find it hard not to be captured by her siren's gaze as she offers you a smile. Your heart drops to the bottom of its elevator shaft, and your throat burns as you spit out her name.
"Hey Case."
Everyday it's just as hard to pretend that being friends is easy. But it was your idea, so this perpetual downward elevator and throat venom are all on you. She wanted to be with you. And of course, you blew it.
That doesn't stop you from admiring God's perfect creation. Her gorgeous legs, followed by the luscious swivel of her waist, to the delicious torso, culminating with the face of a goddess. You know that it bothers her a bit, the way you stop and stare, but you sent yourself to hell this time.
She flushes, melting a creamy strawberry rose into her cheeks, and her lips part revealing a flawless smile.
She belongs on a pedestal in the Pantheon on Mount Olympus to be worshipped.
"Hey Cap."
The torture ends when you realize that you are actually intending on going to class today. So with a heavier heart than before your arrival at the coffee cart, you turn your back to your goddess and go to the Lancaster Parks Building.
I know it's the oldest line in every movie, but I'll love her till I die.
It's been almost four years now, and you wonder if any other woman will have this effect on you. Doubtful, since she has too much of your heart, too much of your soul, too many of your memories for you to care.
It's just too bad that every time that you see her, you know it's too stupid to be righteous. And you can't help but wonder, is it too late?