You look over at him, and wonder, is he right for me? You stare at his face, his handsome profile turned towards her, your best friend. You watch how he smiles, the way he looks whenever she walks into the room.

And you wonder, "What about me?"

You stare at him, every time you see him, hoping he'll notice you. But he doesn't, he never does. He's too busy with that Amy girl, who is supposed to be your best friend.

But you can't help but feel, deep down in your gut, that you hate her. You can't help but feel a twinge of resentment, and hate, horrible, awful, badass hate, and your heart beats, and your fists clench and its all you can do not to scream.

You can't help but know that he will never understand you. He will never understand your pain, he will never understand your hurt, your sorrow, your guilt. He will never understand the baggage you carry.

Your lips mutter his name, and you find yourself drawn to him. You shut your eyes and he is there. You go outside, and watch the leaves blowing in the wind, and you think of him.

You look at your hands, and you think of how his would feel inside of yours.

You look at your face in the mirror, and notice every blemish, every freckle, and you can't help but scream inwardly because you'll never be good enough for him.

Because he is perfect in every way. His face, his eyes, his hair. And you are damaged, broken, torn.

You silently scream. You awake in the middle of the night, your bed wet with tears and there is nothing you can do. Absolutely nothing.

He doesn't notice you. You are nothing to him.

And you know that you will have to face that fact, but you're scared too. You're scared to give up all hope. You're scared to shut the doors on your dreams.

But you know you have to.

"Ian Kabra will never be mine." You tell yourself those words a million times a day but his face doesn't go away from your mind.

His eyes have trapped you, ensnared you, and you are broken.

And whenever you see him, you silently say, "I can't help who I love. I can't control my heart . . . because its in your hands."

An excerpt from the dairy of Sinead Starling

SinIan is my new favorite pairing.

Its not my OTP, but I still like this pairing. It holds such amazing potentials for angst. I know, kill me for saying that, but angst is so incredibly fun to write, and I can't help it.

Anyway, I don't know if I'll continue this.

This was just something fun I decided to write.

Drop me a review, if you have time.

Thanks! Love you guys!