He is stunning. Every new thing you learn about him just makes it harder to tear your eyes away, every flaw and gorgeous imperfection making your enamored head spin wildly. You can say with absolute certainty that he is perfect.
You can map out every individual freckle on his lightly tanned face, tell someone exactly how large his smile has to be for his cute little dimple to appear, recite every instance he's ever tried to unsuccessfully tame his mess of red-brown curls. You can deduce with startling accuracy exactly how he feels about anything, because you know, you've been close to him long enough to.
You can scream your love for him to the heavens, but it still doesn't change how platonic his feelings for you are. He doesn't love you, not the way you do him, not in any way past the warm, sad smiles he sends you when he catches you staring – because he knows, of course he knows, but he's engaged, in love, and it's not with you.
You try your hardest to forget about it, you honestly do. You try so hard to just be friends with him, to like his fiancée because she's nice and deserves it – deserves him –, but it hurts. Pain spreads through your chest at their every interaction and though you're a pro at hiding things by now, he still notices and apologizes whenever she leaves – with a sad smile, a shrug, not words, never words. The way he pays attention to you, cares if you're in pain, just makes you ache more because that's one of the things you love so much about him.
A distraction, that's what you need. Something to take your mind of him, make you forget just how much you love him for even a moment. For a while, that's video games. You bury yourself in imaginary world after imaginary world, playing through any Xbox game you can get your hands on, and sometimes it's days before you drag yourself out into the sunlight and think about him again. It works, then, but you're lonely. Games are more fun with friends. So you start playing online.
'Nice head shot, dude. Saw that through my sniper, talk about distance. Wanna play CoD with me sometime? It'd be fun.'
You stare at that message for ages. It's the most proper message you've ever gotten from a Live user, and makes the more literately-inclined side of you tingle. So you accept, and start playing games with him – you exchange names, play whenever you're both online, become friends. He likes you, laughs at your jokes, and while you may not be best friends quite yet, he still sticks around.
There are some things about him that make you smile, though. His laugh, for one. You like the way you can here it echoing around his room even filtered through both his microphone and your earphones, you like how light it makes your head feel and how he always cuts it off with a hitch of breath and some smaller giggles. You also like his voice. It's a mid-range soprano that jumps octaves in both directions depending on the situation – raising when he's embarrassed, dropping when he's sleepy – and it's always presented in a slow drawl just because he's too lazy to speak faster.
In his own, wonderful way, he is stunning too. Everything you learn about him makes that more obvious, every pause and squeak just making you smile wider. You don't quite think he's perfect, but he's close.
You may not be able to map his freckles, know when his dimple appears, or recite every moment he's ever tried to fix his hair, but his voice in your ear keeps your mind off the person you can do that for, and it helps. You can't deduce with startling accuracy how he feels about everything just yet, but his every minuscule sound is filed away in your head for the future where that's possible.
You don't think it's anything to scream to the heavens about, but you know that whatever feeling is there is mutual. He likes you the same way you like him, even if that's friendship right now – and even if it won't be later.
'I have a lot of issues right now, but hey, you're the best distraction EVER. :)'
