His chocolate eyes connected with yours. His lips whispered loving phrases in your ear. His heart ached for yours.
His hand was in hers.
Your eyes watched as his flickered between her and you, every bat of those brown lashes lightening yet crushing your heart at the same time.
You don't quite know when it happened. Was it that mission when it was just you and him? Or when you would stay up late and help him with his endless paperwork, talking more than working?
When did his touches send your heart fluttering, or his words wrap your brain with thoughts of security and joy?
You would never know when you two fell in love, or how, but you did know one thing.
He would never be yours.
Your stomach sunk further in your chest when the red headed girl pushed herself on her tip-toes and pressed her pink lips to his. You could feel every fracture in your heart as you touched your own lips. You remembered how soft his lips were on yours.
You strode from the merriment of the party, your formal dress tickling your ankles as the tears burned in your eyes. You looked back once more to see his concerned chocolate eyes pleading with your own, but his hand never left hers.
No matter how much you loved him, and he loved you; his hand would never leave love for him would never rival his love for her.