Every time he sees her, he feels like crying. His insides knot up, his pulse races, nightmares and delusions twist themselves together and repeatedly play in his head. He can feel his hands shaking -- giving away his total lack of composure...
His blue eyes fill with regret.
He knows she can't help how he feels -- firstly, because she doesn't know what she's doing to him. She doesn't know the feeling he gets when she smiles, or how much he enjoys her company. She won't ever know that he talks about her all the time, becaue he's sworn his mother to secrecy. She can't hear the monologues he mentally recites when she starts talking about a Jason or a Kevin, or a Mitch. She can't see the fantasies that fly behind his thoughts: one moment he's trying to fix the copy machine, the next, he finds himself saving her from Certain Doom. This usually implies bruising her current boyfriend, in some way or another.
He's a daydream-narcoleptic, but she still doesn't have a clue. She doesn't know what he thinks of because she's not supposed to. He is, after all, the low-key background guy. Mainly around to provide a few extra laughs... At least he can do that for her, as what he wants could never work.
...It's not even that it wouldn't work. It's that he doesn't dare ask her out. He's a chicken, a pansy, a yellow-bellied coward -- and the worst thing about being a coward is that you begin thinking of the possibilities, both good and bad. That's when the Unrequited Love begins to work it's magic, slowly pushing you into the hot, sticky seas of sorrow and joy. It eats you up, emotionally, and eventually there's not a bit of you left. You go the way many people have before -- consumed before you even know it.
He's been consumed for a while, now... But not only has he drown, the possibilities of bravery might just be driving him insane.
Every time he sees her, he feels like screaming something. Anything. Everything. He wants to drop to his knees and beg her to love him; he wants her to know, once and for all, that his whole life is based around her happiness. He's serenade her if he could sing, sweep her off her feet if he were only charming. Actions speak louder than words, don't they? ...Unfortunately, he finds himself comatose and unable to deliver either. Unfortunately, it's because he's afraid she'll laugh at him or something.
Unfortunately, he couldn't be more wrong.
