This is Setomary but I do not once mention their names. I was going to update "Boys Like Me" on Christmas but I got lazy and didn't write anything. So have this thing which I wrote really quickly because I've been going through old Latin notes of mine and I reread Catullus 5 because I'm trash that didn't want to fit it into anything else. I really only steal a line and don't build on the message of the poem? Anyway it's a good love poem and you should so read it.
There is this girl who lives at the end of the hall and he thinks she is beautiful. Of course, he could never tell her this. He's so big and awkward while she is small and graceful. He sometimes thinks about scooping her up in his arms and carrying her everywhere, but two things stop him. First, the fear of dropping the girl and shattering her like glass. Second, the fear he will be found out. So he admires her from afar. She is ivory white and covered in little pink blossoms. She is made of porcelain and flower petals. She sips her tea like a fairy.
In his dreams they lie together, nose to nose, arms wrapped tight around the other. He hears her laughter—the tinkling of bells. He can smell her hair and her clothes, strawberries and roses. Her skin is warm. He runs his hands along her face to feel the crinkles of her forehead, the deep dimples when she smiles. He peppers her with a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then another thousand and another hundred, and a thousand and a hundred again until he runs out of kisses to give her.
But these are just dreams. In reality, he treats her thank yous as 'I love you' and her smiles as each of 3300 kisses dotting his heart.