little drabble
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He liked listening to music in the mornings, just as all the other students were coming into the school. Not because he wanted to ignore conversation (though it was a plus).
No, for this purpose he had an entire playlist made up with all the songs selected just for these mornings. So no matter what song was on, no matter how long it took for Craig to see him, the mood would be set.
Today was no different.
As soon as Kyle came into view, the music played. As if some higher power made it so, those hips swayed to the beat, his footsteps in perfect rythm to the tune.
Holding his books to his chest with one hand, the other hand on his cell scrolling through whatever, Kyle was completely unaware of blue eyes focused solely on him.
Criag gripped the door of his locker as he peeked around it, swallowing in a vain attempt to parch his suddenly dry throat. In these moments, he knew nothing except the Kyle, the music, and the way his heart hammered in his chest.
Just as with every school morning, Kyle eventualy walked past him, those emerald eyes still fixed on his cell. Craig always cherished this instance: when Kyle's scent lingered in the air and he could glance over his shoulder (carefully, of course, so as not to attract attention), just in time to see Kyle's retreating form.
Then he would sight and reluctantly pull out his earbuds, the roar of the school raining down on him as he faced the harsh reality:
Kyle Brovlovski would never be his.
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