Chapter 1

Perfection. The word flashed through my mind as he sat on the bench across from me, his deep hazel eyes flickering up to my face for the briefest of moments. In the millisecond that his gaze met mine, I drank in every aspect of his appearance. My eyes roved his flawless face hungrily, a desire for remembrance striking me as brutally as a spiteful spear thrust into my side.

Within the depths of his honey orbs were splashes and specks of glittering, radiant blue. His eyes were like two large pools of lapiz lazuli and melted yellow topaz, set in the snow white of his flawless flowing skin. His nose was endearingly straight, giving him a dangerous look about him. Bangs of brown and gold fell before his face, an unwanted shield between two people holding a secret, mutual attraction.

His lips were full, parted, and slightly upturned into a smirk as he noticed my wandering, iron-gray eyes. As I watched, his nose slightly scrunched up and he let out a low laugh, ducking his head and peering up at me from under thick, black lashes.

I shook my head in silent denial, my dirty blonde hair tumbling down my shoulders into curls of chocolate brown and platinum blonde and caramel gold. I raised a pale hand to my mouth, hiding my distant smile behind a glittering sapphire and diamond ring.

No one would ever be told of this moment, as recent as it was. All it had taken to get me to him was worth it as he nudged my foot with his under the table. My reluctant grin grew wider. Countless stories would be written by me about this moment, and in each of them this boy would remain nameless. No name was good enough for him.

The smell of hot coffee drifted towards me as he lifted his Styrofoam cup to his lips, keeping his eyes focused on mine. I curled my hands around my own coffee, feeling the warmth spread through my arms from the sugar-saturated liquid. I remained silent. I didn't know what to say to him.

Since our falling out a few months back...things had never quite been the same. Not as if we hadn't talked during those few months...they just weren't friendly words. And now, that things were...slightly shifting back to normal...I was at a loss for words. What was I supposed to say?

But then, he leaned across the table and the sound of the chair legs screeching on the tile made me look up. Just as I looked up, I felt his lips on mine cheek, but they were too cold, too...sticky. Lifting my hand, I wiped my cheek and looked down at my fingers. Whipped cream was smeared on my hand, and on my cheek. He let out a short bark of laughter, his eyes twinkling.

I laughed as well, only in a mixture between disbelief and disgust. Leave it to him to think of that. Leave it to him...

Chapter 2

His fingers ran over the ivory and ebony keys in such a way that left me speechless; mesmerized. It had never crossed my mind that he harbored such a beautiful, elegant talent. My hands ran through his hair as I stood behind him, my eyes closed, focusing entirely on the gentle, quiet tinkle of the melody.

Letting his name slip through my lips, the music ceased and his hands fell into his lap as he leaned back, resting his head on my chest. The pentacle around his neck glittered as it caught the light, slipping down to the base of his throat. My own pentacle dangled in the air as I leaned over him, my hair brushing against his face softly. His eyes fluttered open lazily and he rubbed his head against my hand, practically begging for me to touch his hair.

I gave in, sweeping his bangs away from his face, smiling slightly as he purred playfully, nudging my wrist with his nose. I moved my hands to his neck, trailing my fingertips down his pale, perfect skin. I felt his pulse quicken under my palm, pounding mercilessly beneath my touch.

"Someone's having fun," I observed quietly, taking note of his playful, adorable nature. It was rare I could get him into such a mood; he was always too cool, calm, and collected to let even a shred of his control go. It was moments like these that made my heart flutter nervously and my stomach lurch in a favorable manner.

"Mm, what was your first clue?" he chided, standing up off of the piano bench and turning to face me. I tilted my head up to see him clearly, for he towered over my 5'5" build. At least a good six inches taller than me, he constantly called me 'His little midget'. His. It didn't bother me that he called me a midget, as long as I was his.

"This." I rested my hand over his chest, feeling the relentless thumping of his heart against his ribcage. These were the moments I lived for; when I could just be with him and no one would know until I wrote it down to record these timeless memories. Even then, they would know nothing. Not who 'he' really is, not where these moments took place, and especially not how beautiful this boy made me feel every time he looked at me.

Unbelievable. I never would have thought him and I would get along like this, in this way. Nobody did, really. They still don't, because they don't know. They'll never know.

Wrapping my arms around him, I hugged him tightly, feeling his arms fall into place around my waist. Not your typical romance story, surely not, but it was insanely satisfying in my opinion. To me, to him, and that is really all that matters. And it was enough.