There's only one person I dream of, one person I think of repeatedly. One person I wish to call mine.
Renzo Shima.
I've been lucky enough to have my lips graced by his. Now he's all I can ever think about.
I know he sees me staring, I hope his mind wanders to thoughts of me as mine does of him. It's so difficult to concentrate on my lessons when I feel his presence in the room so strongly.
The smallest things about him, the ones I appreciate so much, are burned into my memory.
Like how soft his pink hair was between my fingers, I love the sounds he'd make when I'd pull at it gently while looking down at him.
His eyes are the deepest shade of brown, I'm afraid if I stare too long I may fall into them. They seem to sparkle when he smiles and I swear it's like magic.
Shima's voice can be so tender and gentle when he whispers, and the way he said my name that night sent shivers up my spine. I'd give anything to hear that again.
His lips are sweet and adventurous, they explored my neck and chest and moved skillfully against mine. I think of them the most.
The callouses on his hands scraped my skin as he pulled me closer. His fingers locked with my own is something I wish to have everyday. I miss the feeling of him tilting my chin up so that he could see my face, the way his fingertips lightly touched my neck could make my heart stop.
His bones are shaped like art, not perfect but so beautiful you can't look away. Collarbones meant for kissing, teeth that shine when he smiles and felt like heaven on my lower lip, hips that jut out slightly and were easy to hold onto, and cheekbones that lift when he grins.
I wonder if my scratches down his back are still visible, as I watch him stretch from across the classroom. I'm so aware of his fading bruises lingering beneath my jaw, they were near impossible to hide from my brother's curious gaze. But I've managed.
It's been a long few days. We've barely spoken and it makes me anxious. I don't want to lose my best friend.
I try to ignore hearing him laugh with another, seeing him flirt with a girl out of habit, and how he mindlessly grazes her ass during a hug. I'd gladly swap places with her. She isn't interested, it's obvious by the rolling of her eyes and how she leans away from him.
She doesn't know how lovely Shima truly is. I feel fortunate to have experienced it.
Though the fuzzy memories hurt some times. They're amazing and everything I hope for, but the memories remind me that he was never mine.
It's painful to think of him in such intimate ways with the ever-present reality that it was just one night.
I can't have him.
No matter how badly I wish, no matter how much I think of him, he still will never be mine.
I'm learning to accept that, but I don't believe I'll ever fully move on from this.